Fire Emblem Path of Radiance: Love Sonata
by Falchion1984
Summary: Inquel to Fire Emblem Path of Radiance: Divergence. Two years after the War, a Festival gives Ike the chance to, finally, confess his love. But, will she accept him after he's kept her waiting for two heartrending years? IkexElincia, JanaffxLucia. Review.
1. Chapter 1

Falchion1984: Hey there, Falchion1984 is back in town. I'll admit, I had my doubts about how my previous story, 'Fire Emblem Path of Radiance: Divergence,' would do here on but the wonderful reviews you've given me have just blown me away. And, even better, they made me want to give it another go. This story coincides with the first chapter of 'Divergence,' so you might want to read it if you haven't already. This story takes place about two years after Path of Radiance. The Reconstruction in Crimea is still going on but, with the aid from Gallia and Begnion, it has been going remarkably well. Ike, as per his plan, is still a Lord, he had finally seen that the Greil Mercenaries' Fort is rebuilt and that they'll be in good hands once he leaves and is planning to, at long last, ask Elincia to marry him. Tonight will provide him the perfect opportunity but, there's a problem. The observant reader will notice that Ike's resolution to marry Elincia and the current events occur two years apart. Such a delay is not without…consequences. Will Ike get the woman of his dreams after unwittingly neglecting her for two years and, in typical Ike-fashion, getting distracted by helping others? Read on and find out. Be advised, the story will switch perspectives when you see the character's name in parentheses.

Falchion1984: Perspectives in this story will be, predominately, Ike, Elincia and Lucia with some scenes from the perspective of Geoffrey, Sephiran and an O.C named Albert Dantes later on. It should be pretty clear whos perspective it is, but if it isn't then please let me know in your reviews and I'll fix it. Finally, I decided to enlist some co-hosts.

Ranulf: Ah, my adoring public!

Mist: Hello everyone!

Falchion1984: Now that introductions are over, let's get started. DISCLAIMER!

Ranulf: Say 'please.' Just kidding. Falchion1984 doesn't own Fire Emblem. If he did, he could afford professional co-hosts.

*************Fire Emblem Path of Radiance-Love Sonata, the year 648************

(Ike)

"My Lord," the Crimean Seneschal protested feebly, "this is not…"

"Okay!" Ike grunted. "Now, let's take this to the left."

The blue haired Mercenary spoke through clenched teeth and his words were punctuated by grunts and panting, though this was understandable. The stone slab he and the other three workers were carrying must've weighed more than a Wyvern.

The small team, laden with the burden of the massive slab, laboriously inched their way in the direction Ike had indicated. After several minutes, though any man present would claim it was hours, the small team had reached their destination. It was the foundations of one of the hundreds of houses in Melior that had been destroyed during the final clash against King Ashnard. Perhaps a stray shot from the Crimean Liberation Army's siege weapons had crushed the structure or perhaps it was a stray blast of Elfire or Elthunder from the dueling Sages on both sides. Whatever the cause, Ike and the other workers on the team had spent the better part of that morning, a particularly hot summer morning, clearing rubble away from the foundation.

Now, the hard part began.

"Alright," Ike grunted to his fellows, "that should be close enough. Jacobi, you and I will lower our end. Edario, Jalboun, you raise your end and push when I tell you."

So saying, the slab was tilted to a worrisome angle while Ike's gaze snapped back and forth between the foundations of the former house's eastern wall and the base of the slab. After quickly gauging the necessary angle and distance, Ike nodded and directed for the others to lower the slab into place.

Slowly, painstakingly, the slab was edged towards the wall's foundation which had been anointed with mortar to hold the stone in place. Eventually, one corner made contact with the foundation and the four men began shoving the slab upward until it stood perfectly vertical. As soon as they that it would not fall they let out a brief cheer before they went about moving the next wall into place.

As Ike moved to follow the three workers, he slowed his stride and stretched his arms to relieve cramped muscles. His gaze began to roam over the city which, though still scarred by conflict, was finally beginning to look like itself again. While placing the walls of the soon-to-be house was strenuous, it was not the only project underway in Melior.

Not by a long shot.

As far as the eye could see were teams of Beorc and Laguz laborers engaged in the task of restoring the Crimean Capital to its former glory. While much of this labor force was in the quarries and woods carving stone and felling trees, the produce of this toil arriving hourly via convoys of wagons, the number in Melior seemed beyond count. Some were unloading the stone and lumber from the wagons and hauling it wherever it was needed, others were preparing mortar, others still were on scaffolds working to rebuild the city's outer walls, more were clearing away debris and even more were rebuilding the many homes and businesses that had been destroyed in the fighting.

The flurry of tools and materials and workers surged in all directions with bewildering speed and Ike could not suppress a feeling of mingled surprise and relief at the slow transformation of the battered capitol. As Ike and the Crimean Liberation Army fought its way back into and across Crimea, he saw the devastation wrought upon Crimea by the War. The uncountable number of ravaged towns and desiccated fortresses and the infinite corpses all bespoke of the enormity of putting it all to rights, which shook even Ike's infamous sense of optimism. But, against the odds and all logic, Crimea was rapidly coming back to life. Every day, more and more homes were rebuilt and an ever increasing number of farmers had returned to their fields, fishermen to their trawlers and merchants to their shops.

Slowly, somehow, life was getting back to normal. Well, not quite.

Life was improving, it was returning, and it was changing. The most obvious sign of this was Beorc and Laguz working in cooperation. Or, at least, in friendly competition. From his vantage point, Ike could see an impossibly large Beorc worker hefting a stone block meant for the largely rebuilt city walls. On an adjacent scaffold, a Laguz worker was hefting a slightly larger stone into place. The Beorc worker, seeing this, began heaving his stones into place faster than before. Ike rolled his eyes, remembering a competition between Largo and Muarim of similar nature and suspecting that the two had recently been engaged in a rematch. A rather public one too, he imagined.

Still, it was something. He remembered, bitterly, the eruption of enraged hysterics the people of Port Toha had gone into at the sight of a lone Laguz. That incident, which still chilled and angered Ike, had not repeated itself in Melior. Whether this was because the people of Melior were more sensible or whether this was thanks to some unknown, talkative witnesses of the Liberation of Melior, Ike did not know and did not care. Whatever it was, it worked.

The expressions on the face of the Beorc when faced with a Laguz were no longer of terror or revulsion but wove across the spectrum from curiosity to wonderment to the competitive gleam that had flashed in the eyes of the burly workers on the scaffolds. While some skeptics surely remained, everyone had found the story of the War, of a joint Beorc/Laguz Army being formed in opposition to Ashnard, to be too incredible to ignore. And, everybody was interested in how these events would play out.

It was now two years after the Liberation of Melior, and the Reconstruction had achieved a momentum that was beyond everyone's expectations. And, that was more than just talk. Most of the families in Melior had lost their homes in the fighting and yet dozens of those same homes had been rebuilt and reoccupied in the past few months. Ike knew this well, every couple of hours a father or a mother or an older brother would arrive to take possession of the house and would spend at least five minutes shaking his hand or hugging him or spluttering their gratitude. And, before (finally) departing, they'd intimate that their family included an attractive, and unmarried, member of the opposite sex that Ike would enjoy meeting.

The other workers found these minor tortures to be strangely entertaining.

Still, Ike was willing to put up with it. As Sephiran had noted, during the signing of the Treaty of Serenes, helping people was what mattered to Ike and the relief and happiness he saw across the faces of the countless people as they finally returned home seemed to make the weight of his labors fall away. Still, he was getting a little sick of all these eager fathers pushing their daughters on him.

He had another woman on his mind.

It had been nearly two years since the signing of the Treaty of Serenes, and the celebration that had followed. Mist had pushed him, or rather kicked him, into dancing with Elincia. As they danced, the waltzing lessons Titania had given him transmuting into action almost as instinct, his mind wandered. He remembered when they'd first met, the experiences they'd shared and how it all had changed the course of his life in ways good and ill. The War, which had begun mere days before they'd met, had robbed Ike of much that he could never reclaim, not the smallest of which being his father and his innocence. But, the death of his father was an old pain and Ike ultimately came to terms with it.

Ike had learned much, of both the world and himself, during the War. At first, he'd been terrified, worried that some blunder on his part would cost a friend's life, and it made him second guess himself and caused his heart to clench at every skirmish. But, gradually, the dread that weighed upon his mind seemed to ease. It happened so sublimely that, true to his nature, he was completely unaware of it. In fact, he didn't completely acknowledge it. Titania and Soren had done so much for him, with Titania advising him about the troops and the battlefield while Soren handled the finances and strategy of the Company. The many warriors who'd fought alongside him were brave and capable and many of them were leaders in their own right. While Ike was still skeptical when people told him that he had become the great warrior and leader that his father had envisioned, he did believe that fighting for Crimea, and for Elincia and for unity between Beorc and Laguz, had made him a man.

And, he knew that to have lived his life without having done so would've left him a different man. A lesser man.

And then, there was Elincia. She was, very likely, the most beautiful woman he had ever met. And, beyond that, she was kind, intelligent and selfless. One would have to be selfless, or rather desperate, to put up with everything that had happened on their journey. He still remembered, with considerable anger and a little embarrassment, the altercation that had happened between the two of them and Apostle Sanaki. He had been so repulsed, so disgusted that the Apostle would humiliate someone for her entertainment that he'd lost his temper.

He could've easily lost his head along with it.

That had taught him something, something he might've wished he hadn't seen. He had learned about the darker side of the Nobility who, by wealth or lineage or political influence, had set themselves above everyone else.

Soren had said the simple, bitter truth of it to his face. "Ike... This may not be much of an answer, but letting madness rule the day is the prerogative of nobility." As usual, Soren was right. But, that didn't make it palatable. As Ike learned more, about certain Begnion Nobles keeping Laguz Slaves in violation of their own country's laws, his opinion soured further. Some perverse part of him had actually enjoyed administering the killing blow to the traitorous Duke Oliver Tanas. When Apostle Sanaki informed Ike that he'd need to be granted peerage and dubbed a Lord in order to command the Crimean Liberation Army, he'd nearly gone ballistic. When he beheld Elincia's stricken expression, and remembered why they'd come to Begnion and what they were fighting for, his anger was sent slinking off ashamed. In retrospect, he realized what had happened. His aversion towards the self-centeredness and venality of the Nobility had blurred his judgment. He wanted, so badly, to avoid being them that, when the idea of being made a Lord came up, that desire had migrated to the forefront of his mind and he'd protested unthinkingly. He protested because being a Noble wasn't what he wanted and, after seeing Elincia's face had jarred him back to reality, he realized how selfishly he'd acted. When he should've been thinking about Crimea, or of Elincia, or of his troops or of the cause they were fighting for, or of avenging his father, he had been thinking about himself. He'd acted selfishly, without forethought or sentiment beyond his own desires, as the Nobles he'd hated had done. After taking a moment to appreciate the irony of it, he retracted his refusal. And, the relieved smile Elincia had given him had caused his shame and self revulsion to evaporate. He and Elincia had given much to each other during the War, from the reassurance Ike had given her when she'd feared that Lucia and Geoffrey had been slain to when she had offered him courage when he prepared to face the Black Knight, when they had taught each other a few tricks, and saved each other's lives on the battlefield and when he'd given her the nudge she'd needed to take the reigns of her early rule. And, he particularly remembered when they'd kissed. It was just after their waltz in Serenes Forest, during the Treaty signing a month after the War, that he'd realized he was in love with her. Even so, the notion seemed too ridiculous to pursue. At least, it did until his talk with Sephiran. The Prime Minister of Begnion had, somehow, seen into Ike's heart and had given him the suggestion that he stay in Crimea's Court. He pointed out, correctly, that Ike was enamored with Elincia and that Ike had come to believe in King Ramon's dream of unity between Beorc and Laguz and that he wanted to alter the deplorable behaviors of the Nobility. And, as Ike was still a Lord and a War Hero, he'd have the power and legitimacy to do much for everyone. The notion that all that could be attained was a little overwhelming. He'd thought it over, often and late into the night, weighing his loyalty toward the Mercenary Company that had been his family against his loyalty toward Elincia and the dream of peace between Beorc and Laguz. And, he'd realized that the question had already been answered. The Greil Mercenaries were his family because they loved him enough to let him go. 'Except for Shinon,' he thought with a mental shrug. Still, the gift they'd commissioned for him had revealed much. The jeweled scabbard, inscribed with the proverb, had since become one of his most prized possessions. Below the proverb were the names of each of the Greil Mercenaries, including Mia's as she had joined the Mercenary Company permanently. Thus, with the blessing of his family, the urging of his friend and with the love of his life and the strength of conviction in his heart, the fog of doubt that he'd long grappled with had evaporated and his mind was as clear as one of the crystalline rivers of Serenes Forest. Now, there was only one thing to do. Decide. And, he did. Tonight, Elincia had ordered that a Festival take place both to commemorate the anniversary of the Liberation of Melior and to reward the efforts of those who'd worked long and hard to nurse Crimea back to health. That would be the time. Ike's hand went to his pocket, feeling the slight bulk of the ring box within. Tonight, at the Festival, he would ask her to marry him.

Until then, however, he still had work to do. Ike mopped his brow. The summer sun now shone overhead, and the heat sent rivulets of perspiration flowing down his face and back and was pasting his shirt to his torso. Ike suppressed a growl. He should, he realized, be used to this by now. Sure, there'd been hot days in the Crimean countryside, but the shade of the abundant groves and cool waters of the many lakes and streams had made that easy to live with. When he and the Greil Mercenaries were in the Sea of Trees, escorting Elincia to Gallia, the heat had been nightmarish. Gatrie had mentioned something about how, if they weren't being pursued, he'd have stripped his armor off right there. Titania had replied that such a claim almost made her glad they were being pursued but now, in the veritable furnace of stone and reflecting sunlight, Ike was feeling a sudden empathy for the blue armored Knight.

'What the Heck,' he decided.

With that, Ike began to peel off the crusty, smelly shirt, oblivious to the protesting Seneschal.

(Lucia)

If there was anything Lucia hated, more than Bastion's incessant attempts at wooing her, it was the Council Meetings. The first she'd attended, after having reached the age to assume her duties as a Courtier of the realm, had been a veritable nightmare. She had been carefully, meticulously, groomed and instructed in every conceivable form of Court Etiquette (and a few inconceivable ones, in her opinion) by her father. Everything, from proper ways of speaking and appropriate word usage to showing respect for her peers and the speaker, had been carefully ingrained in her mind and she arrived as the very model of the intelligent and quick witted Courtier.

She had assumed that the other Courtiers had been similarly educated.

She was dead wrong.

With the exception of the late King Ramon and Duke Renning, the entire Court seemed to throw all niceties out the window five minutes in. Lucia supposed that her assessment was, perhaps, a bit unfair. King Ramon, Goddess rest his soul, had been a Monarch of revolutionary sentiment and his ambitious and unprecedented plans to foster peaceful relations between the Beorc and Laguz was certain to garner some apprehension. Still, that didn't stop His Majesty's Trusted Circle, amongst whom Lucia was numbered, from thinking unkindly towards His Majesty's Loyal Opposition.

She had attended many Council Meetings since reaching the proper age to do so. The first was the worst. The one that had just concluded ran a close second.

One had to admit, this latest Council Meeting did have a few bright spots. For starters, Elincia seemed to be growing into her role as Queen of Crimea and had taken the reins of her early rule with determination and confidence. This had thoroughly surprised Lucia as, just prior to Elincia's Coronation two years ago, the prospect of becoming Queen had rendered her inconsolably fearful that she'd make some fatal blunder. Strangely, when the moment finally came, she'd seemed calm, centered and in fine spirits. Lucia had learned, interestingly enough, that Elincia had conversed privately with Ike a few minutes beforehand.

Lucia had certain suspicions about the two of them, all of which were…very interesting.

The Council's second compensation was that, despite the Council being barely half its proper size and nearly all of the former Council's experienced members having disappeared or been killed, the newer Courtiers seemed to be managing well enough. For a while, the Council had seemed to be just her, her brother Geoffrey, Count Bastian and a handful of strangers. But now, she had gotten a feel for the others and found some to be impressive. Two in particular, namely Marquis Silok Kotal and the recently inducted Lord Reginald 'Just Call Me Reg' Lockhart, had proven quite capable considering that, technically, they were too young to be on the Council. Not that such could be helped, the War had dramatically reshaped Cremia's political geography. His Majesty's Trusted Circle and His Majesty's Loyal Opposition had been replaced by Her Majesty's Reluctant Bureaucracy and Her Majesty's Honored Dead, as heirs of Nobles came in to replace slain parents and local Governors were admitted to more readily connect the actions of the Council with the needs of the people.

Silok was the orphan of Marquis Kotal and had inherited his father's land and Council Seat after the War had ended. He was at least several years too young to be on the Council, and his baby face only exacerbated that fact, but the Council was hardly in a position to refuse him. With much of Crimea still in the midst of Reconstruction, the realm needed every able leader it could find and Silok was quick witted and eager to serve.

Reginald, though of low birth, had distinguished himself during the War through gallant service as a Cavalier. Shortly after the War, on Geoffrey's personal recommendation, Reginald had been promoted to Paladin and granted peerage.

'Not unlike a certain, blue haired Mercenary we all know,' Lucia mused with a mental snicker.

Reginald had been less argumentative about it than Ike had. From what Lucia had heard, Ike had just about exploded when Apostle Sanaki essentially ordered him to receive peerage from Elincia. From what Elincia had told her, Ike had withdrawn his refusal very suddenly and for no discernable reason. Lucia, however, had her suspicions on that matter.

One thing about Reginald that seemed amusing and perplexing all at once was his many connections. Whenever the Council encountered a confounding matter, he always seemed to have some friend, or friend of a friend, or uncle, or sibling, or cousin, or acquaintance, or old classmate, or comrade-in-arms, or old girlfriend (the last of which seeming to constitute the majority of his connections) that would prove useful in resolving the matter.

While many were curious as to where Reginald found all these people, and while the number of old girlfriends Reginald seemed to have had certainly raised some eyebrows, he always managed to find someone who proved to be invaluable in resolving the issue.

Other notable faces included Governor Gervain of Port Toha and Mayor Caldaur of Caldea.

Gervain was one of the few older gentlemen on the new Council, and had been the Governor of Port Toha for nearly nineteen years. He had been surprised, astonished really, when Elincia had requested that he take a seat on the Council and he had initially refused. Much of that, Lucia suspected, was embarrassment over the conduct of his people during the War.

The people of Port Toha had strongly opposed King Ramon's plans for Beorc/Laguz Unity and, upon learning that Ranulf was in their city, had ratted out Ike and the Greil Mercenaries, as well as Elincia herself, to the Daein Army. Lucia could readily discern that Gervain felt great embarrassment over this, along with an appreciation for the irony of suddenly finding himself serving the same woman whose death warrant he'd signed.

As one would imagine, Gervain was often quiet during the Council Meetings unless he had something imperative to say and he frequently avoided making eye contact with his fellows. Still, nineteen odd years of governing Port Toha, a veritable keystone in Crimea's economy, had gifted him with a sharp mind for business and trade which the Council was in no position to do without.

Caldaur was something else completely, the Mayor of Caldea was jolly and cheerful to the point where it rankled the nerves. Still, his joviality and charitable nature made him quite popular with the people and a reliable informant on the attitudes and morale of the citizenry. He also had a sharp political mind, though his gentle and simplistic way of speaking could easily cause one to forget it.

Caineghis, the King of Lions and ruler of Gallia, had also been in attendance which had taken them by surprise. In hindsight, it shouldn't have. Caineghis had been a good friend and staunch ally of King Ramon and had a vested interest in rebuilding Crimea and in ensuring that peaceful relations between Beorc and Laguz became a reality. No doubt he'd decided to personally examine the progress of the new Monarchy that his people were helping to build, quite literally, from the ground up.

Lucia had a bad feeling that Caineghis was not impressed, and this same presentiment had flashed across Elincia's face several times. Tanith's presence as Begnion's representative only made it all the more acute just how much scrutiny this fledging Monarchy was under.

If the other Courtiers were struck with any similar distress, it was invisible. Geoffrey and Reginald had greeted Caineghis respectfully while Caldaur extended an invitation for the King of Lions to stay at his estate as a guest. Bastion had nearly gone into a poetical explication of his delight at this turn before Lucia cut him off with a sharp kick from under the table. Gervain seemed, understandably, unwilling to look Caineghis in the face while Silok, by contrast, stared at Caineghis with a child-like look of rapt fascination.

Typically, a word that seemed alien in the improvised and undermanned Council, these Meetings were preceded with a quick prayer to the Goddess for wisdom and temperance and, depending on everyone's mood, polite inquiries between the Courtiers about the doings of their families. This Council Meeting was, instead, preceded by Ike's Report. This unofficial ritual had been going on in the Council since it reconvened and was deemed by more than a few as quite unusual, not the smallest reason being that Ike often decided that working in the Reconstruction was more important than giving these reports in person.

While many, perhaps, took umbrage at this seeming show of disrespect on Ike's part, others regarded it with curiosity. Ike and the Greil Mercenaries had long since been paid for their services, even if the larger portion of that payment had somehow migrated from their coffers to the Orphans' Fund. So, many found it odd that the Greil Mercenaries were not only aiding in Crimea's Reconstruction by seeking out and routing Ashnard Loyalists, but were actually volunteering to do so.

Lucia had her suspicions about this too, and they were also very interesting.

Ike had given the Report to a very young, very flustered Castle Courier who, over the course of twenty minutes in which he stuttered every other word, informed the Council that the Greil Mercenaries' raid on a rogue band of Ashnard Loyalists in southeast Crimea had succeeded and they suspected that group to be the last of its kind.

'Forty seven killed,' Lucia mused, mentally tallying the Greil Mercenaries' score, 'sixty three captured, eight weapons caches seized, thirty two Prisoners of War freed and five missing Daein Generals captured. Huzzah, Ike, huzzah.'

While Ike's raids had done much to bring some semblance of calm to Crimea, many wondered about why he had bothered making this effort. Lucia had her suspicions on this as well, but the Meeting started before she could dissect them.

The first item for consideration had been security on the roads. As the scattered bands of Ashnard Loyalists were steadily picked off by the Greil Mercenaries, the roving bands of Brigands had reasserted themselves. The constant traffic of Supply Caravans and Merchant Convoys from Gallia and Begnion, which swarmed the myriad roads of Crimea daily, had been attracting them like flies to honey. Elincia had voiced the idea of redeploying Crimean troops to secure the roads, but dissenting Courtiers pointed out that, as Crimea's army had been thinned by the War, it lacked the numbers to secure both the roads and Crimea's cities simultaneously. Elincia's reply, that the troops on loan from Begnion could temporarily take charge of the city defenses, had been met with some skepticism.

Those Begnion troops, by Elincia's own admission, were on loan. Entities that gave out loans tended to expect eventual compensation. More than a few were worried that, if Crimea proved itself overly dependent on Begnion, then the resultant debt would grow beyond Crimea's ability to pay. Tanith had pointed out that the Greil Mercenaries' aid in exposing the Laguz Slave Trade and rescuing the surviving Serenes Herons was payment enough, and most were convinced by her good word.

There was, however, an exception.

"The soothing of the Apostle's guilty conscience against the cost of sustaining an Army in the field," Count Fernand La Roche seemed to think aloud in his elegant basso. "Does she truly view these two things as being of equal value?"

That had nearly sent the whole Council Meeting downhill. That was the one thing Lucia absolutely hated about La Roche. In addition to being consistently tactless, his statements were difficult to decipher. His question could be interpreted in several ways, almost all of which negative. One possibility was that he was implying that the Apostle considered her emotional well being as more important than the resources her country would expend in securing and rebuilding Crimea and the hardships it would incur on her people. If the Begnion Army returned saying that the Apostle ordered no payment demanded, would the Imperial Senators ask that same hard question? The second possibility, which was even worse, was that he was implying that Tanith was lying. And, by extension, that carried the accusation that Apostle Sanaki herself was lying. And, as with all his cryptic statements, it was worded as a seemingly innocent and pertinent question so that, if challenged, he could simply say that it just an inquiry and that everyone else had simply leapt to the wrong conclusions.

Lucia made a mental note to implore Tanith not to include this incident in her report. After La Roche had received the dressing down of his life, naturally.

This was hardly the first time that La Roche's choice of words had generated some awkward moments; he was one of the few survivors of the original Council, on which he'd served for many years, though how he'd managed to evade dismissal was beyond anyone's understanding. During one of the last Council Meetings that took place before the War, when they'd been discussing the cultural programs King Ramon had begun with the Laguz, La Roche had made what sounded like, at least to Lucia's ear, a veiled accusation that King Ramon was engaged in this enterprise only to carve himself a favorable niche in the histories of Crimea.

Lucia had been about to display her displeasure with La Roche's impugning His Majesty's integrity, quite possibly with her sword, when La Roche cut her off with his, assuredly, well rehearsed explanation. La Roche had said that King Ramon would benefit, that much was true, but, since King and Country were one and the same, what benefits one enriches the other. Though he spoke in a detached monotone and kept his face swept clean of emotion, Lucia couldn't help but feel that this was the same explanation he'd have given to an impetuous and dim-witted child, and that he'd enjoyed it immensely. King Ramon had, more or less, taken her side by informing La Roche that they needed to have a little talk.

The King had been slain before that conversation had taken place.

What really bothered Lucia was that, as always, La Roche had a concealed point. Begnion had invested heavily in Crimea's Reconstruction, sending Supply Caravans and troops across Daein and into Crimea via the Riven Bridge and Merchant ships along Tellius' southern coast. The latter were escorted by Begnion naval ships since, after the near abduction of the Apostle by Daein troops and Kilvas corsairs, Begnion had begun actively policing its sea lanes. On top of all this, Begnion was maintaining a sizeable military presence in Daein. The cost of all of this must be astronomical and, despite Tanith's assurances, Lucia was worried that matters would change for the worse.

If Sanaki did, in fact, ask for payment it was unlikely that Crimea could deliver.

Somehow, the Council managed to return its attention to the agenda. The second item for consideration was the issue of Beorc/Laguz Trade. While Crimea was unlikely to begin actively trading until after the Reconstruction, it was decided that this issue was best solved in advance and, perhaps, this would help to improve relations further.

When the debate turned towards the currency exchange rate, things went sour. What followed was a long and, at least to Lucia's ears, pointless debate about which of the two currencies was more valuable, which used gold of greater purity and firmness and Goddess knows what else. Reginald, however, saved the day by mentioning yet another of his acquaintances who'd be useful.

"Another old girlfriend Reg?" Geoffrey asked, sounding as if he was almost, but not quite, making a joke.

Several of the Courtiers, after a split second of astonishment that the oh-so-serious Geoffrey had a sense of humor, shared a good laugh at Reginald's expense.

After Reginald had fought the embarrassment out of his voice, he informed the Council that he had a friend who'd been a prospector and a gold smith and, thus, was quite skilled at determining the value of gold. Elincia, who was engrossed in the act of pretending not to be massaging away a serious headache, quickly agreed that Reginald's friend would prove valuable and ordered the matter deferred until Reginald's acquaintance was found.

Discussing the goods themselves was much more productive. Being feline in nature, the Beast Tribe Laguz in Gallia were interested in trading for fish and offered, in exchange, regular deliveries of wild fruits and fodder for livestock. The discussion reminded Lucia, fondly, of a rather amusing conversation between Ike and Ranulf. It was a rare, and hilarious, thing for a Cat Laguz to call himself a fish out of water. This proposition was readily approved. Most of Crimea's farms were still undermanned and undersupplied and, legendary though they were, Crimea's fishermen simply couldn't feed the whole country by themselves.

Plus, Lucia was getting really sick of fish.

The matter of trade eventually turned in a new and surprising direction: music. The Laguz were known to share a love of music with the Beroc and crafted a number of, at least to a Beorc's eyes, exotic instruments. Caineghis had brought with him an example of these Laguz crafted instruments, it was a horn…sort of. It was formed out of a metal that Lucia could not identify on casual inspection and consisted of a mouth piece that curled forward from a long, vertical shaft that was covered in a thick coat of piston valves. The shaft shot downward before smoothing out and curving upward into a wide mouthed horn.

Nothing the like of it had been seen, or heard for that matter, in Crimea and that made it all the more interesting. As if sensing their interest, Caineghis' lips enveloped the mouth piece and he began to play. The sounds that arose from the strange instrument were remarkable, deep and resonating tones with an inexplicable gentility that seemed to lighten up the whole room.

Needless to say, when Caineghis offered a number of these instruments (the Sax he called it), Elincia quickly agreed.

La Roche, however, expressed some skepticism at the idea of discussing music when Crimea was still replete with families without homes. Lucia had a dark suspicion that these words went beyond either pragmatism or compassion for his fellow Crimeans, both of which Lucia doubted that he possessed, but to draw questions about the Council's priorities. Caldaur, however, interjected.

"Actually," he began, "I had a thought. What if we have a few Laguz musicians come to play at the Festival tonight? Making this change at the last minute might be tricky but…"

Before he could finish, Caineghis cut him off.

"It shall be managed," the King of Lions spoke up. "In fact, let us take this further. Perhaps if we can have the Beorc and Laguz minstrels alternate during the Festival, then we'll have a clearer idea of how to handle this area of cultural interchange. I imagine that the Sax will prove popular in Crimea, and perhaps we'll find something to ask for in return."

Murmurs of agreement answered this notion but La Roche, as always, seemed to find some fault in the proposition.

"Respectfully," he began, sounding anything but, "even if this works, it will be necessary to instruct our minstrels, both Beorc and Laguz, in how to play these new instruments. Finding appropriate teachers, ones inclined to such cultural interchange, may prove difficult. And then, there will be the further difficultly in creating new compositions for these instruments and integrating them into our existing styles of music."

Though La Roche's tone of voice offered no reason to believe so, Lucia fervently hoped that he was grasping at straws with that obvious counterargument. The Reconstruction of Crimea and realizing King Ramon's dream of peace between Beorc and Laguz was replete with challenges. What was one more?

Lucia wanted to make this point to La Roche's face, just on the off chance that it would shut him up for a while, but Silok beat her to the punch.

"Your Majesties," he began, extending one hand, "with your approval, the line starts here."

Caineghis graciously allowed the young Marquis to take the instrument. He soon regretted it, along with everyone else in the room, when the sound of Silok's experimental notes rang out. They bore a disturbing resemblance to the sound Lethe had made when a heavily encumbered laborer had stepped on her tail.

La Roche brought one clenched fist to his mouth, doubtless to suppress a smug chuckle. Caineghis' reply somehow managed to couple tactfulness with honesty.

"It's yours, so keep practicing," he instructed.

'Preferably in your chambers,' Lucia mentally added. 'With the doors and windows all closed. Tightly closed.'

After everyone's ears had recovered from the unintended torture, the focus of the Meeting shifted again.

When the issue of joint military defense came up, things got interesting. Caineghis had voiced the idea of resuming the officer exchange program, which was readily approved. Lucia had learned, to her surprise, that Titania of the Greil Mercenaries had once been a Crimean Knight and had been sent to Gallia for that purpose. This had led Titania to Greil and to joining his Mercenary Company as well as sharing Greil's improbable friendship with Caineghis.

It was, perhaps, this strange accident of history to which Crimea owed the survival of their Queen and nation.

Geoffrey, at Lucia's discreet urging, volunteered to be stationed in Gallia for several weeks and Caineghis, after agreeing, informed the Council that Janaff would represent the Laguz in this matter. That had gotten Lucia's attention. She had met Janaff, the Eyes of the Hawk King, during the War and the two of them had readily connected. Lucia at first found Janaff too informal and too forward, not the smallest reason being that he'd asked her on a date mere minutes after they'd first met. Janaff's response to her refusal, when he'd misconstrued that her father would want her accompanied by a chaperone to mean that she was still a child, had been rather embarrassing.

Still, the two had made quite a team during the War. Many a time Janaff would swoop down upon the enemy, scattering them in all directions and dispatching several with lethal blows from his beak and talons. While the enemy was still dazed and shaken by Janaff's display of aerial ferocity, Lucia would fall upon them in a deadly dance of singing steel. Beyond that, Janaff seemed more amenable than most Laguz about the idea of unity between Beorc and Laguz. She voiced that it would be good to see him again.

And she suddenly became aware that everyone in the room was staring at her.

Her years on the Council had trained her well and she quickly diffused the matter by alluding to their shared philosophies. A few murmurs of agreement greeted her explanation, but Bastion's brow was furrowed in concentration and Geoffrey regarded her with a raised eyebrow. Both looked somewhat skeptical and Lucia silently cursed her big mouth.

Finally, Caineghis had broached the idea of introducing to Crimea the idea of installing military commanders on the basis of merit, rather than by lineage, as the Laguz had done throughout their history. This had gotten the Council's attention. One of the greatest strengths of the Laguz, according to Ulki, was that they selected their leaders, Kings and Commanders alike, by strength rather than lineage and this gave them an advantage during the long hostilities with Begnion in the distant past. It was here, however, that La Roche struck yet again.

"Yes," he quipped in his elegant basso, "a very novel and revolutionary concept. I believe that Daein employed something similar, using contests of strength to determine who resided atop their hierarchy. I wonder…how did they devise such a unique method?"

Lucia felt her stomach drop. As with his earlier jab at Tanith, La Roche's question could be taken in several ways. And, none of them were good. He might have been implying that Daein was able to acquire this information from the Laguz either through espionage or torture. Or, worse, La Roche could be raising the idea that the Laguz gave Daein this information. And, either way, these remarks were an insult both to Caineghis' character and integrity. Lucia's fist clenched, as if it held La Roche's neck, and she saw several agitated eyes boring into La Roche's skull.

If Caineghis was struck with any similar umbrage, then he concealed it well. Still, Lucia was certain that the King of Lions' self restraint was not as effortless as cursory observation would suggest. There were quite a few deceased Daein soldiers who could offer mute testimony regarding just how dangerous an angry Laguz could be.

As various methods to painfully end La Roche's life, or at least his tenure on the Council, ceased to dance across Lucia's imagination, she pondered his actions. And, they didn't make sense. She knew that there had to be some sense behind them, though she certainly thought the opposite often enough she knew that La Roche was no fool. He was doing this for a reason, but what could that reason be? Was he trying to hedge the Crimean Court away from its Gallian and Begnion benefactors, which would force Crimea to look inward for the strength to rebuild? Perhaps he was looking to cause Elincia to second guess herself, and thus make her reliant upon a more experienced statesman, such as himself? Maybe his goal was to induce Gallia and Begnion to urge a…reorganization of Crimea's government, one that would inevitably favor him. Any of these three scenarios occurring would see La Roche as the main, if not sole beneficiary. Again, Lucia felt contempt for the man boil in her veins.

As Lucia continued to mentally dissect La Roche's actions, she realized that she knew practically nothing about the man. Unlike the rest of the Crimean Nobility, or Beorc Nobility in general for that matter, he never threw the gaudy parties that were stock-in-trade of the upper crust. In fact, now that she thought about it, she didn't even know where he lived. Not that she'd been interested in finding out, of course. Now that she really thought about it, the only thing she knew about him was that he was once married, the ring finger of his left hand bearing the tell-tale loop of too pale flesh to show that a wedding band had once encompassed it, but she had heard nothing of his wife or of how their marriage had ended.

She suspected divorce, it was certainly what she'd have done in such a position.

By the time she'd shaken herself back to attention, the Council Meeting was concluding. Elincia had adjourned the Meeting while Lucia, repressing the urge to burst into song or at least scream 'Hallelujah,' respectfully seconded the motion. The Queen then mentioned that she was heading for the Castle Balcony.

'Heading for the Castle Balcony,' Lucia mentally repeated with silent sarcasm. 'At high noon, on an eighty degree day. Oh, yes.'

She had a supposition about the real reason Elincia was going out there and, if proven wrong, Lucia would cut her hair.

(End)

Falchion1984: Well, hopefully, that will set the stage. Those of you who've read 'Divergence' likely recall both the scabbard and Sephiran presenting it to Ike. I'll admit, Ike retaining his title might be pushing it as far as keeping in character goes, but I hope the rationale I gave passes reader inspection. Aside from wanting an Ike+Elincia ending, and being angry about not getting one, I believe that Ike could act as a driving force behind cementing relations between the Beorc and Laguz. Given his reaching across the divide, his aiding Ranulf at Port Toha and rescuing Reyson and Leanne, it stands to reason that the respect he commands amongst the Laguz is immense, perhaps even greater than King Ramon's. Additionally, his Info conversation with Zihark implied that he too believed in the dream and, as you may recall from 'Divergence' and this chapter, it caused him to be uncertain where his loyalties ultimately lay. The scabbard, given to him by the Greil Mercenaries, was one part art a symbol, of their willingness to let him decide his own path in life, and one the other part a wedding gift.

Mist: My brother is such a dolt, keeping Elincia waiting so long.

Falchion1984: Yeah, but that's why we love him.

Mist and Ranulf: *Raise eyebrows*

Falchion1984: Whaaaat? It's an endearing trait. It can be troublesome though, as Ike's introspection points out.

Ranulf: What I'd give to have seen him yelling at the Apostle.

Falchion1984: One thing I'd like to point out, and this is reflection rather than bragging, how come I'm the only one thus far who's touched on the irony underlying Ike's near refusal of being dubbed a Lord? I mean, it was an obvious but meaningful literary device but neither the game nor other fanfic authors have touched on it. Am I the only person who noticed it?

Mist: I thought you said this wasn't bragging?

Falchion1984: Shut up. Anyhow, the members of the Council include some O.C's. Those are Reginald, Caldaur, Gervain and La Roche. Silok is a semi-O.C, for lack of a better term, since he is named in the game after the fight at Riven Bridge but never appears. Hopefully, the Council Meeting presented a realistic picture of Crimea's post-reconstruction politics and the scene with Caineghis caught your attention. The idea of Laguz playing jazz was something of an accident, which occurred one night while listening to some old Harlem Renaissance (that being African American) music. Upon reflection, I realized that certain similarities could be drawn between the white-black ethnic conflicts and the animosity between the Beorc and Laguz. Ranulf being beaten in Toha, for instance, could be likened to acts of violence against blacks as can the tendency to brand those on the other end of the racial divide as 'subhuman.' Furthermore, there is the presence of prominent figures on both sides of the divide trying to bridge the gap. Apostle Misaha, who ended Laguz Slavery and was assassinated soon after, could be likened to Abraham Lincoln and possible connections could be drawn between King Ramon and John F. Kennedy and Caineghis and Martin Luther King Jr. And, to top it all off, jazz artists during the Harlem era were referred as cats. Get it? Gallians. Cats. Be advised, this came from a jazz induced adrenaline rush so if my theory doesn't hold up then please say so diplomatically. What say you co-hosts?

Mist and Ranulf: *Sound asleep*

Falchion1984: No has any respect for history these days. Well, there are entire books about the Harlem Renaissance but, sparing details, it was a musical movement by African Americans spanning the early twentieth century. The only Harlem Cat I've yet listened to is Tomas Waller, but I plan on changing that in due time. Anyhow, please review.


	2. Chapter 2

Falchion1984: Okay, here we go. Now, this next chapter will probably be old stuff to some of you since it'll involve a lot of reflection on Ike's past actions. Most of this stuff occurred in the game or in Support Conversations but one or two events in here occurred during 'Divergence.' In any case, here I make a lot of guesses regarding Elincia's life prior to the game. Being a King, and one trying to conceal his daughter's existence for fear of national turmoil, it stands to reason that King Ramon had few chances to spend time with Elincia. I would imagine that, since she seemed closer to Duke Renning in the game, her uncle was a different story completely though this still fails to explain the oddity in the plot about why he'd be so affectionate of a potential rival for the Throne.

Mist: Has anyone ever told you that politics is bad for you?

Falchion1984: It is?

Mist: I rest my case.

Falchion1984: How about you take care of the disclaimer?

Mist: Like I have a choice? Falchion1984 doesn't own Fire Emblem, just this story and any O.C's he comes up with. *Shudders*

(Elincia)

The sunlight gleamed and reflected sharply off the masonry of Castle Crimea and the infinity of cobblestones below stinging Elincia's eyes and her brow was already perspiring under the sun's wrath. Summer was heavy upon Crimea and Elincia was bewildered at just how hot the city could get, and even more so at the sight of people actually working in such heat. Still, she could not suppress a flush of admiration for the countless Beorc and Laguz laborers that were reviving Melior with every work of their hands, every exertion of their bodies and every gallon of sweat that demarked their efforts.

At least, she supposed there were gallons of it. It was certainly hot enough.

And, beyond the restoration of her realm, she was looking upon the unfolding of a dream. Her father and uncle had, for many years, worked with King Caineghis to build a lasting peace between the Beorc and the Laguz. More than a few called the dream impossible, others still called it madness, and that dream had cost King Ramon and Duke Renning their lives. And, it seemed, during her and the Greil Mercenaries' visit to Port Toha, that the dream had died with those two men. Yet, she had been proven wrong. The tale of the Crimean Liberation Army, the impossibly mismatched fighting force of Beorc and Laguz soldiers, had spread from Crimean to Crimean, from town to town and from country to country until there wasn't one person that did not know it.

Now, people had begun to believe in the dream because they believed in the tale and its heroes. And, because of that tale and its heroes, the dream was coming to life.

That musing brought a pang of regret that her father and uncle hadn't lived to see this day. Her father, she admitted, had little time for her. She had long known that her birth had been something of an accident, occurring after Crimea's Throne had been offered to her uncle, Duke Renning, and her existence was known to only a carefully chosen few. Too often surrounded by bodyguards who'd taken no oath of secrecy and loose-lipped, opportunistic Courtiers, King Ramon had few chances to slip away to see his daughter. But, none of that meant, for a minute, that he didn't love her.

Renning had been another story completely. He had been a regular visitor to the Royal Villa where she'd been raised, had been a connection between Elincia and her oft absent parents by relaying messages and, in later years, he'd instructed her in riding her Pegasus and using her sword. At the culmination of the War, she'd finally put those lessons to good use.

Thinking about the War caused her to scan the tangled rivers of moving figures below, seeking a certain blue haired head. Ike would be down there, working and sweating and struggling to evade all those fathers eager to push their daughters on him and driving the local Seneschal ballistic. The latter portion of that thought made her snicker; Ike's less-than-Lordly habits had raised the ire of more than a few others.

Elincia suspected that Sanaki would've tried to strangle Ike at least once during their time in Begnion, even though the child-like Apostle would likely have needed a ladder to reach his neck.

Elincia's vantage point offered an excellent view of Ike. He was now putting the finishing touches on one of Melior's newly rebuilt houses and, right on cue, the father of the family that would occupy it materialized, pulled Ike into a bear hug and doubtless mentioned that he had an attractive daughter. As soon as that father was out of eyeshot, Ike turned and rubbed at his temples irritably. Elincia snickered again, but it came out hallow. When would one of those limitless female admirers be met with something besides a polite refusal? She didn't know, she didn't want to think about it, and yet she knew she had to.

Ike had come into her life, and Crimea's, by an accident of history. He did not ask to be the one to see her safely to Gallia nor did he request to be the one to escort her to Begnion. No one had ordered him to rebuke the Apostle's mockery and he'd made it abundantly clear how much he hated the idea of being made a Lord. And, with his father's death and the command of the Mercenary Company having fallen to him, he surely wanted to return to his old life. He wasn't one to be tied down and if anyone deserved to be free it was him. Though the thought of it stabbed at her heart, she knew that she'd have to relinquish him. She knew that he would, sooner or later, request to be released from her service and he'd go back to the people he loved and the life he needed to put back in order.

So, why hadn't he done that by now?

He hated the Nobility, its selfishness and prejudices, and he'd been put in his position by, as he himself had said, matters of time and circumstance. She knew that he wanted to discard his unwanted title but, two years on, he was still here. He'd work for hours in rebuilding Melior, erecting houses or cleaning cisterns or clearing away rubble before handing off a report on the Greil Mercenaries' latest findings in the ongoing hunt for Ashnard Loyalists, and he'd depart in the early evening for the Mercenary Fort. Whenever he passed through the Triumphal Gate, Elincia suspected that he wouldn't be coming back. And yet, he always did. He'd come through the Triumphal Gate every day, just after six in the morning, like clockwork. And, he'd made no recent mention of renouncing his title.

But, why not?

This conundrum, coupled with the unceasing stress of her early reign, had left her head full of fog that seemed to thicken and solidify into a frost of bewilderment and dread. She couldn't make Ike's actions make sense. He didn't need his title to be working in the Reconstruction; Crimea was in no position to turn away capable volunteers. He didn't need it to be hunting down Crimea's lingering foes; willing hunters were scarce and in great need. He didn't need it to enter Melior or Castle Crimea; she'd personally flog anyone who tried to bar him from doing so. He didn't need his title to be respected, half the continent idolized him. And, he didn't need his title to be important to her, he'd be thus forever.

Had something…changed? In him? In how he felt or thought? She didn't know, she hoped not, even though she knew Ike well after all their time together, his thoughts were ever an enigma. She didn't want to think that the extraordinary young man who'd enchanted her had been altered. Not after all they'd been through together, not after everything they'd done and endured and not after she'd fallen in love with him.

There, that was the truth of it. That truth had long lingered below the veil of her subconscious and had, finally, traversed into her mind. And, that stabbing pain in her heart sharpened. Because she knew that nothing would come of it, even the times they'd kissed had been more impulse than anything else. If anything, telling this to Ike would likely ruin their friendship. She reminded herself that he deserved to be free and resigned herself to let him go.

She was about to turn away when something caught her eye. Ike, after once again mopping at his brow, stretched his arms up and back. His hands found the back of his shirt and jerked it up and over his head. She suddenly found herself rooted to the spot as the damp, crusty garment was unceremoniously dropped to the cobblestones, where the now cringing Seneschal retrieved it, and left Ike's powerfully built torso exposed. Elincia's eyes roamed over Ike's sculpted chest, his broad shoulders, his powerful arms, even more muscular from so many weeks at work in Melior, and his flat, muscle rippled stomach. The sight, which caused a peculiar stirring somewhere between her legs, hit her like a fist. She already knew he wasn't hers to have and seeing his muscular form exposed to her, admittedly appreciative, eyes had rubbed salt in the wound.

'Whoever he chooses,' she mused tiredly, 'will be a most fortunate woman.'

(Lucia)

Lucia found Elincia on the Castle Balcony, gazing out upon the fast rebuilding Crimean capitol and pretending that she wasn't staring at a certain someone. The pretense was a waste of time, Lucia had known Elincia practically since she was born and, beyond that, Elincia was never skilled at lying. Lucia followed her gaze, seeking that telltale mane of unruly, azure hair. She soon spotted him, shoveling debris into carts for removal and…

'Oh my!' she silently exclaimed.

Somewhere in the course of the work day, Ike had removed his shirt. That likely contributed to the rapt fascination that Elincia was pretending not to direct at him. Not that Lucia could blame the Queen, Ike was quite handsome and the effect of the long hours of labor was evident in his now Herculean frame. When Lucia first met him, after the Crimean Liberation Army had crossed the Riven Bridge and reentered Crimea during the War, she'd found him puzzling. He was a Mercenary, but he didn't act like one. He was blunt, to be sure, but not crude. His manners could use some work, but she'd be hard pressed to call him rude. And, there wasn't a gram of vulgarity in him. When they learned of the siege of Delbray Castle, and she'd instructed Ike to take the Army southward and away from the Daein contingent, she'd been angered when he casually disregarded her orders and went to Delbray's aid.

In hindsight, she was glad that he did. Geoffrey had been commanding the troops at Delbray, intending to act as a sacrificial lamb to divert the Daein forces away from Elincia, and Lucia had no idea how she'd tell her father that she'd left her brother to die.

Lucia could read Elincia's expression well enough; the two of them knew each other almost as well as they knew themselves. She could see the admiration and wistful longing that painted itself across Elincia's eyes when see looked in Ike's direction and Ike had been protective, and yet open and respectful, toward Elincia. It was obvious that they'd grown close during the War, she could see it in the easy manner in which they spoke to each other and how, when Elincia took the field, the two of them had become a lethal team almost instantly. Then, there was Ike's visit to the Throne Room which had helped the newly crowned Queen to gather her wits and courage. And, to top it all off, Lucia had been within earshot when, at the signing of the Treaty of Serenes, Sanaki and Elincia had been discussing whether or not Ike would involve himself in Crimea's governance. Elincia admitted that it was doubtful but said she'd be 'of gladdened heart' if he did. She did not say that for just anybody.

Lucia had some suspicions about what this all meant, in fact these suspicions had played a role in her inducing Geoffrey to be sent to Gallia for the officer exchange program. Her brother had been enthralled with Elincia during his youth, and had admitted it to Lucia after considerable prying on her part. Geoffrey has assured her that he'd gotten over it, and she believed him. But, if her suspicions were correct it would be best if he was absent.

Funny as Lucia found Elincia's farce of indifference toward the shirtless Ike, which was becoming more and more transparent by the second, she decided that she needed answers. She moved one hand in front of Elincia's un-responding eyes and snapped her fingers.

(Elincia)

Startled by the sudden explosion of sound that had burst from in front of her, Elincia jumped as if she'd been pricked by a needle. Breathing hard, she whirled to confront Lucia, who was struggling to remain expressionless. Lucia eventually submerged the laughter Elincia knew she was restraining and spoke.

"Apologizes, Your Majesty," she informed her liege. "You seemed…far away."

Those words had, unwitting though it was, struck a little close to home. In a manner of speaking, Elincia had been far away. She'd been away, far away, from Castle Crimea and Melior and her fragile Monarchy and all the political quagmire and laborious Reconstruction that surrounded her on all sides. Lucia had interrupted a rather spectacular fantasy that involved her and Ike as simple Mercenaries out in the countryside.

And, the notion was appealing.

Ike and the Greil Mercenaries had been the only people, aside from Lucia, Geoffrey, her parents and uncle, who had treated her as a person and a friend rather than some coveted jewel to be hidden away from unfriendly eyes. And, the notion of parting ways with them, with Ike, was more painful that she could imagine. Granted, Ike was still here but the sight of him in Melior with the notion of his inevitable departure hanging over her made his presence a slow poison in her veins. The notion of staying with them, either of her being of common birth or her letting the crown pass from her inexperienced hands into another's, echoed in her mind with its seductive promise of finally having Ike. As a friend, as a confidant and, perhaps, something more given time.

But, she knew she could not betray her father and uncle's memory nor the hard-won trust of Caineghis and her people for her own gratification.

Elincia knew that her station was a solitary one, one that demanded countless sacrifices upon the altar of duty and selfless love of the realm and its people. And yet, when she took one, forbidden look inward at her own desires, she saw that she wanted Ike, despite the impropriety of it all. But, she just kept reminding herself that it would be selfish to keep him here, and even more so to leave with him, and that she needed to let him go.

As if reacting to her thoughts, the frost in her head sent a fresh wave of chills through her brain at the prospect of his eventual departure.

"Well," Lucia began, tentatively, "he is handsome, isn't he?"

Elincia felt herself blush, though she fought it down. Why did she have to bring that up?! She had been working to shove the image of Ike below the surface of her subconscious, even if she couldn't tear her eyes away from him, but Lucia's comment had shattered her half-hearted efforts.

"Even after everything, Ike still puzzles me," Lucia admitted.

After she was fairly certain that her face no longer had the coloration of a ripe tomato, Elincia regarded her friend quizzically. If Lucia noticed this, it didn't show for Lucia continued to speak.

"He's hard to predict," Lucia went on. "He often seems so level headed and respectful but…I've heard tell that he once yelled at the Apostle. I had a hard time believing it."

Elincia's eyes stung at the memory. She still remembered when the Greil Mercenaries arrived in Begnion after meeting Sanaki, the child-like Apostle. Sanaki had questioned her, seeking to confirm her identity as King Ramon's daughter. That had her worried, she didn't actually have any proof of her heritage, so she gave a somewhat fumbling explanation and hoped her truthfulness would show in her words. Ike had vouched for her, better than she had for herself, but his word was dismissed out of hand because of his low birth. Still, he persisted and Sanaki astonished them by suddenly bursting into laughter and telling them that Sephiran had already vouched for her.

The reason for the entire inquiry was, apparently, because the child-like Apostle was bored and craved entertainment.

It had all been so bewildering that Elincia hadn't known how to reply. She may have been at a loss for words but Ike wasn't. Quite the contrary, he went ballistic. Ike, she knew, had inherited a strong sense of decency towards others from his father; she'd heard him talking about it to Nasir back at Tor Garen.

'What was it he said?' she wondered. 'Oh yes, now I remember! 'If you treat others in good faith, they will follow you of their own volition.' And, he was right.'

Ike's strength of conviction, and his unwavering loyalty to his friends, had impressed her many times. And, though Nasir and Soren had chastised him for his outburst, Elincia had appreciated his speaking in defense of her and her honor.

That was a rare privilege for one who, officially, didn't exist.

She'd tried, unsuccessfully, to ease the weight of mortification that had settled on him after that. When she told him that she appreciated him vouching for her, he'd only chuckled and politely disagreed. Not long after they'd spoken, he withdrew to his Guest Chambers. Ike had spent the next few days training, planning, going on missions and, seemingly, avoiding her. Was it because her attempts to ease his embarrassment had wounded his pride? Had she been too forward when she requested that he call her by her name, as he'd unwittingly done during his outburst? Whatever it was, it got worse when Sanaki ordered him to receive the title of Lord.

Ike's face had darkened, his eyes had narrowed and his lips peeled away to expose a clenched jaw. The mask of rage that overtook Ike's face had scared her, not only because it seemed so unnatural for him but because she couldn't shake the feeling that it was meant for her. By the time they'd reached Tor Garen, Ike had seemed somewhere close to his old self but Elincia still couldn't shake the memory of Ike's enraged face.

Perhaps, if Ike did hate being a Lord THAT much, it was all the more reason to let him go.

"Now that I think about it," Lucia continued, "I don't think I ever apologized to him."

"For what?" Elincia asked, one eyebrow arching upward.

Lucia smiled wistfully and a small chuckle escaped her lips, as if she couldn't decide if she was amused or embarrassed about what she was about to say.

"Delbray Castle," Lucia answered.

Lucia didn't say anymore, she didn't have to. Elincia remembered learning of Delbray, after the Crimean Liberation Army had defeated General Petrine and reentered Crimea, and she remembered the bell-clear joy of learning that Lucia and Geoffrey and Bastian were all still alive. And, she remembered how that joy had turned to terror when she learned that Delbray was besieged and Lucia ordered Ike to retreat.

Lucia had taken considerable umbrage when Ike flatly ignored her orders and went to Delbray's aid. Still, Elincia knew Lucia well enough to detect the relief she felt when Geoffrey had been rescued.

"That wasn't the first time Ike has surprised us," Elincia pointed out.

"Yes," Lucia agreed, "Janaff and Ilyana told me quite a few stories."

'More than a few,' Elincia mused wistfully. 'More than I could count.'

She'd meant it too; Ike had a history of letting ethics and sentimentality overpower his better judgment. The first she remembered the most clearly, as if it had been only yesterday instead of nearly three years ago. She had been traveling in disguise with the Greil Mercenaries as they made their way to Port Toha to reach Nasir's ship for their voyage to Begnion. Ranulf had acted as their guide, enshrouded in a heavy cloak to conceal his Laguz features.

King Ramon and Caineghis were allies, but this pact was not respected by the common citizenry.

And this terrible truth was made evident when Ranulf was unmasked purely by accident and found himself surrounded by a mob. Elincia remembered the horror, the revulsion that surged through her blood at the sight. She'd heard about such incidents, she had long been aware of the work her father and uncle had invested in trying to halt such occurrences. Seeing it, up close, left her pained as if some of the mob's blows had fallen upon her.

Ramon's vision, in the wake of his death, seemed to have evaporated like a terribly pleasant dream that gave way before the slings and arrows of the waking world.

Then, Ike intervened. The mob had, with chilling speed, turned their attention toward Ike, allowing Ranulf to slip away. Ike's actions had been chastised, even by Ranulf himself, since all the commotion he'd raised had blown their cover. Still, Elincia had regarded his actions with bewilderment.

A Beorc defending a Laguz, and a Mercenary acting in an altruist fashion for that matter, was unheard-of and Ike had done both in one go.

It happened again in Serenes Forest when Ike led the Greil Mercenaries against Duke Tanas' impressive Army to rescue an enraged Reyson, who didn't want their help. It happened yet again after the defense of Talrega, where the surge of water erupting from the opened floodgates had destroyed hundreds of homes and farms and wiped out the fields. Ike had decided to aid the dislocated Talregans, even though they'd declared they'd sooner eat dirt than accept help from Crimeans, and the others in the Army had reluctantly agreed.

Very reluctantly.

Many a time, Ike's actions were seemingly reckless. In fact, at least a few of them were probably reckless, period. Though Ike might seem impetuous and undisciplined, few doubted his commitment to his mission and none could question his loyalty to his friends.

Was it Ike's capacity for compassion or his generosity that had enthralled her? Or was it his strong sense of justice? Probably both and, whatever had changed in him she hoped that wasn't it.

"Oh, I don't doubt it," Lucia spoke up, shaking Elincia out of her reminiscence.

Elincia turned to face Lucia, puzzlement written across her features. Lucia, seemingly oblivious to the scrutiny, chuckled softly.

"Sometime, I hope you'll tell me a few of your stories," Lucia admitted, with the barest hint of a smirk. "You probably have the best ones."

Lucia might have been talking about the time Elincia had spoken to Ike before battle, telling him to 'Give them a sound thrashing,' which the two women had laughed long and hard over, but Elincia suspected otherwise. Something in Lucia's words, Elincia wasn't sure what, seemed to hint at an underlying meaning. Almost like…she wasn't sure what, the frost in her head from her preoccupation with Ike and her efforts to smother her impossible longings seemed to freeze away her thoughts and numb her senses.

"King Ramon probably would've enjoyed meeting him," Lucia commented, a hint of nostalgia entering her voice.

Elincia didn't reply, she didn't have to. She suspected that Lucia already knew that she agreed. And, not just with the suggestion but with the sentimentality behind it. King Ramon had been like a second father to Lucia and Geoffrey and, since either could move about the realm more freely than her, Elincia suspected that both knew her father better than she did.

There had been a time when she'd regarded this fact with envy, but she eventually came to terms with it. The circumstances of her birth, and the concealment of her existence, left her in no position to be picky about how her early life was lived. Though she'd been isolated, with only a trusted few allowed access to the Royal Villa where she'd been raised, her childhood had been happy. Still, she couldn't help but wonder what her father, or her uncle, would say if she could speak to them. Maybe one of them could dispel the fog and frost of longing, dread and confusion in her head.

Her gaze turned back towards Ike, who was now shifting to relieve cramped muscles.

"They might've become good friends," Lucia suggested, a hint of sadness entering her voice

Elincia was caught off guard by that comment. It made her think, contemplate, what that might have looked like. Her mind's eye worked to form an image of the two men that she loved dearly, one that she barely knew and the other she couldn't decipher. She tried to imagine King Ramon and Ike conversing, either over a meal or a spar or during a morning stroll, and the image perplexed her. At first glance, one would think that they had nothing in common. Ramon had been a Monarch, Ike was a Mercenary. Ramon had been a husband and a father, Ike was young and unattached. Ramon had been ambitious and visionary, Ike was a down-to-earth man but with a streak of sentimentality in him. And, of course, Ike was still alive while Ramon had died horribly.

Yet, these differences were more than outweighed by the connections she could see between them. Both were men of integrity. Both were men who had things, people and ideals, that they considered worth much more than their own lives. Ramon had died for his ideals and Ike had dared death countless times for his. Both believed it possible to overcome generations of hatred between the Beorc and Laguz and worked towards that seemingly impossible goal. Both had stood in defiance of Ashnard, even if only one of the two had done so and survived. And, Elincia would miss them both. Her father had been dead for nearly three years, had been murdered before they could truly be father and daughter, and Ike would likely part ways with her soon enough.

She tried to imagine what they'd say but found the image too painful to watch any longer. Her impossible desire, of Ike being persuaded to remain in her life, kept seeping into the image. She saw Ramon clap Ike on the shoulder, shake his hand and call him 'son' and she heard him say the words 'blessing' and 'daughter.'

She mentally shattered the image like a pane of glass but knew her recollection of it would not be so easily purged from her mind.

"Perhaps," she replied blandly. "I doubt it though, he hates Nobles. He isn't too fond of big cities either."

"Really?" Lucia inquired, arching one eyebrow. "Then, why is he still here?"

"I…don't know," Elincia admitted.

Her earlier mental wanderings about Ike's lingering in Melior made an unbidden return and the fog in her head thickened until it could be cut with a knife. She'd expected him to renounce his title, walk out of Melior and never come back the first chance he got. So, why hadn't he? Two years after the end of the War, he was still Lord Ike, he was still seeking out remnants of Ashnard's Army and he still came to Melior to do his share of the work rebuilding the Crimean capitol. Every day that he lingered, she'd asked herself why he did but she never came up with an answer.

Lucia was right, Ike was hard to predict.

She reflected that she should have gotten used to that long ago.

"Have you asked him?" Lucia inquired.

Elincia was silent but she began to tremble, she wasn't sure what from. Perhaps she was afraid that, by asking Ike what had changed, she'd end up pushing him away. Or, just as daunting, she'd find that it was Ike himself that had changed. Either prospect spread clammy tendrils across her mind and chilled her with dread.

"I guess not," Lucia thought out loud.

Elincia tensed, knowing that Lucia would not leave it at that.

"If the question bothers you that much, then perhaps you should ask," she suggested to the young Queen.

That was, Elincia knew, what she needed to hear. But, that didn't mean it was easy to hear. What would Ike say if she asked? And, for that matter, how would she ask? And, when?

She couldn't think about it, didn't want to, but she reminded herself that she had to.

"How have the people taken to him?" Elincia asked, eager to change the subject.

"You mean besides the Seneschal?" Lucia asked, cocking her head towards the aggravated official below.

Elincia watched as the Seneschal made, yet another, protestation about Ike's less-than-Lordly behavior. Ike, oblivious, continued to shovel rubble into carts, to shake hands with the city-folk, to join other workers in their tasks and showing no indication of donning a fresh shirt.

Both women knew that it was improper to find amusement in the Seneschal's frustration but they just couldn't help themselves.

"Yes," Elincia replied, choking down an illicit giggle, "besides him."

"Well," Lucia began, "the common folk and the troops love him."

Elincia took this news without a blink, in fact she already knew that. Lord Reginald Lockhart, who shared Ike's penchant for unabashed honesty, said it straight off.

'If it wasn't for the fact that I like Ike so blasted much, I'd be worried about him making the rest of us look bad,' Reginald had said.

Reginald's words, 'I Like Ike,' had proven to be remarkably contagious.

"The children though," Lucia continued, snickering, "they look at him like he's a wondertale hero."

The two women shared a laugh, wondering how Ike would react if someone told him that. It also sparked a whiff of nostalgia, nostalgia for the days when she and Lucia were small children who'd read those same wondertales of heroes clashing with monsters or tyrants and fantasized about meeting their Prince Charming. Of course, those wondertales left out quite a bit.

The pain and the blood and the fear and the death of battle. The cold and the hunger and the exhaustion of hard travel in far off lands. The suffering and the guilt and the grief of seeing a friend or loved one fall in battle. The moral paradox of taking lives to save lives, and how the slain reappear as vengeful ghosts in the dreams of their destroyers. And, of course, the process of picking up the pieces afterward which was practically a War in its own right.

The War was no wondertale, though historians and poets would surely weave it into an epic that could pass as one. Ike was no wondertale hero, but none could doubt that he was a hero nonetheless. While Ike was certainly strong and brave and not unpleasant to look at, he was hardly the preposterous portrait of nonsensical perfection that a Prince Charming was.

Still, Elincia could picture a child, any number of them actually, idolizing Ike. And, knowing Ike, she could picture him trying to persuade the, very likely uncooperative, child in question that he didn't win the whole War single-handedly as everyone seemed to think.

"Humility has its drawbacks, I suppose," Lucia quipped.

That was true, as well as another part of the puzzle that was Ike. His humility had been perplexing to her, not only because the words 'Mercenary' and 'Modesty' seemed so utterly mismatched, but because it seemed to cut both ways at once. Most found it endearing that he acknowledged and credited the work of his friends and comrades but some found it odd that he rarely did the same for himself. Some even found it frustrating. Even when Sanaki had praised his intellect, after Ike had deduced her plan to expose the illegal Laguz Slave Trading, Ike had waved it off and said that his friends did more than he in that regard.

Elincia disagreed, and she suspected that she wasn't alone in doing so.

"I suppose," Elincia replied distractedly.

Elincia didn't seem to notice but Lucia had moved closer to her and had lowered her voice to a whisper.

"Still," Lucia commented, a conspiratorial air entering her voice, "this talk about wondertales brings back some memories. Do you remember those talks we had, back when we were little, about who we'd give our first kisses to?"

Elincia remembered those talks very well. In fact, in a matter of speaking, those times were more recent than one would think. Carefree times when the world beyond the front gates of the Royal Villa was an enigma, the clues to which existed only in the various books inside the Villa and stories from the infrequent visitors. Those days, which had ended abruptly the day that the Daein invasion took Melior, were remembered much like one remembers their childhood.

Blissful, carefree, happy and, most of all, brief and unrecoverable.

The world beyond the Royal Villa was a harsh place, an unforgiving place, but there was much in it that was precious if one looked hard enough.

Her gaze wandered between the new camaraderie and burgeoning respect between the Beorc and Laguz laborers, the explosive joy of the families returning to their rebuilt homes and, in particular, Ike.

"Did Ike ever seem like the person you'd want to give your first kiss to?" Lucia asked, curiosity underlying her tone.

The image of the two kisses she and Ike had shared, the first being shy and tentative and the other being a blast of warmth from a wellspring of passion, flashed across her mind's eye and arrested her attention so much that she wasn't aware of speaking or of what she'd said until it was too late.

"Already did," she replied, her voice thin and distant.

When she, belatedly, realized what she'd said, her blush returned full force and she prayed that her voice had been too soft for Lucia to hear.

(Lucia)

Lucia, her usually calm, placid features lighting up with mischievous curiosity, snapped her head in Elincia's direction. Needless to say, the sight of Elincia covering a furious blush was all she needed to see.

She ground her teeth together, so hard that her jaw ached in protest, to keep herself from laughing.

It didn't work.

After Lucia had managed to calm herself, and when she noticed the scowl Elincia had fixed on her, she regarded her Queen and longtime friend with polite curiosity.

"How did it happen?" she asked.

Elincia's embarrassment seemed to worsen and she suddenly found the masonry of the balcony easier to look at than Lucia's face.

"It was an accident," she replied tonelessly. "I found him training, just before the battle of Nados Castle. He…he suddenly fell to his knees and I ran over. He was fine though, he was just worried."

"About fighting the Black Knight?" Lucia asked.

Elincia nodded.

"We talked it over," Elincia continued, a hint of nostalgia crossing her features. "He was…afraid. It seems awful to say about someone as brave as Ike, but I don't have another word for it. The Black Knight killed his father. Ike thought that, even with Ragnell, that he wasn't skilled enough to defeat the Black Knight. We spoke for a while, about the battles he'd won and, after that, he seemed to feel better."

A heart to heart between Ike and Elincia? This was getting interesting.

"Go on," Lucia persisted.

"Just as I stood up," Elincia continued, that familiar blush returning, "I kissed him on the cheek. Then, the next thing I knew, he grabbed me by the shoulders and kissed me."

Though Elincia didn't notice, Lucia had given her the barest hint of a smirk and a sliver of an approving nod.

"It was nothing though," Elincia more whispered than said. "He thought he was going to die, it was just an impulse."

To Lucia, this certainly sounded possible. Ike was an unmatched warrior and a remarkable leader, but he often struck her as one who acts more on instinct and intuition rather than logic or protocol. Still, she suspected that there was more to this than just that.

Ike was, as she herself had pointed out, a hard man to predict.

"Did he tell you that?" Lucia inquired.

"Well, no," Elincia admitted. "I asked him after the second time, he said that it seemed like the right thing to do and that he wasn't sure he'd get another chance."

Lucia's eyes, or at least the one that wasn't perpetually covered by her long coils of aqua hair, nearly popped out of her head when she heard this.

"'Second time?'" she repeated, with a concealed snicker.

Elincia gasped in realization, and mortification, clapping one hand over her eyes.

"And how'd the second one go?" Lucia asked, flashing a wicked grin.

After letting out a long sigh, that sounded somewhere between wistful and agitated, Elincia replied.

"It was just after he'd defeated the Black Knight," Elincia began, "maybe just as the sun was going down. I went to his tent to check on him, to see if he was wounded."

She added that explanation quickly, very quickly. As if she'd anticipated Lucia's suspicions that she'd gone to Ike's tent for other purposes. In fact, though Lucia would never say it aloud, she had a funny feeling that Elincia was being less than honest about that whole I-just-went-to-see-if-he-was-wounded story.

"We didn't speak that time," Elincia admitted, prompting a raised eyebrow from Lucia. "Not at first, I mean. I came in and…well, I was struck by how much…how much better he looked. He always seemed preoccupied, grim and exhausted. But, that night he looked…relieved. No, that's not the right word. He looked…"

"Happy to see you?" Lucia suggested, somehow keeping a straight face.

Elincia shot her a withering glare.

"Well," she admitted, her anger sinking, "he did seem happy. Perhaps defeating the Black Knight helped him to reconcile himself with Master Greil's death. He looked as though he was at peace with himself."

A far away expression dawned on Elincia's face, as though she was savoring a pleasant memory. Very pleasant, Lucia suspected.

"And then he kissed you," Lucia pointed out.

This time, Elincia didn't so much as blink.

"Yes," she admitted. "It was…incredible."

Silence fell between the two women as they thought that over. Lucia had her suspicions regarding Ike and Elincia, but this conversation had given her more than she'd anticipated. Finding out that Ike and Elincia had kissed had taken her by surprise, though perhaps it shouldn't have. Still, Lucia was confident that those 'accidental' kisses weren't accidental at all.

Lucia didn't believe in accidents, much less ones that happen twice. In one day, no less.

"So," Lucia began tentatively, "where do things stand? Between you and him, that is."

Elincia's shoulders slumped and a thin sigh escaped her lips.

"There's nothing to say," she replied. "He'll leave sooner or later and I won't keep him here against his will."

"Which reminds me," Lucia interjected, "why hasn't he left yet?"

Elincia didn't reply, her gaze found Ike again and she stared at him as if the answer to that question could be found inscribed upon his skin. The way she gazed at Ike, that look of anguished longing and pained resignation, told Lucia all she needed to know.

"He…means a lot to you, doesn't he?" Lucia asked.

"Yes," Elincia whispered, so faintly that Lucia had trouble hearing her.

Again, silence fell between the two women. However, this time Elincia did not take long to summon her voice.

"I just…," she began, her voice quavering. "I just wish to know the truth. I know that he wants to leave but I just don't understand why he hasn't."

'Maybe he isn't going to?' Lucia silently mused.

She didn't dare say that aloud though; she knew she'd regret giving Elincia false hope if her supposition turned out to be wrong.

"Why not ask him?" Lucia asked.

For a long moment, Elincia was silent and Lucia could readily discern why. Elincia was afraid. She wasn't afraid that Ike would tell her he was going to leave, but rather that her asking would make him leave. That, one had to admit, was a possibility. But, not knowing was clearly weighing down upon her in leaden weights of dread.

"I…," Elincia murmured, again in a near inaudible voice. "I don't really know. I suppose that I'm afraid. I won't keep him here against his will but I…I don't want him to leave."

This got Lucia's attention. Elincia had always been demure, even after her Coronation, and the phrases 'I want' or 'I don't want' were exceptionally rare in her vocabulary. Sure, Elincia had said she wanted no one else to die when she learned of the siege of Delbray, she'd said she wanted to free Crimea and she'd said that she wanted to grow stronger.

This though, it was very different.

"Perhaps," Lucia began tentatively, trying to sound as if she was unsurprised by Elincia's words, "the Festival would be the best time to ask. Perhaps you could request him as an escort and ask him in private?"

Elincia brought up a hand, her forefinger stroking her chin in contemplation. Lucia could tell that Elincia was thinking it over. Lucia's simple suggestion had given her much to consider. On the one hand, there was the chance that Ike would tell her that he was leaving right then and there and, on the other hand, he might tell her…something else. What that something else might be, neither woman could say, but there was still the faint hope that he'd say something unexpected that was for the better. And, doing and saying the unexpected was Ike's specialty. The only question was, when these two possibilities were weighed against one another in the young Queen's mind, which would win.

Elincia thought it over for a long time, at least Lucia believed so. She stood a respectful distance away, one hand clasping the wrist of her other arm behind her back. She was working to restrain her infamous nervous habit of twirling a lock of hair with one finger, lest it raise Elincia's suspicions.

By the time Elincia finally spoke, Lucia's hand was squeezing her wrist so hard that her whole forearm hurt.

"Alright," Elincia answered, her voice soft but steady. "I'll take your suggestion."

"Whew," Lucia wheezed, relieved.

Then, she noticed Elincia was giving her an odd look.

"Would you like me to inform him?" she asked, thinking quickly.

Elincia shook her head.

"I'll handle it myself," she informed her Courtier and friend, and then left.

Lucia lingered on the balcony, her face swept clean of emotion, until Elincia was safely out of sight. Once the Queen's footsteps receded out of hearing, Lucia snickered. Elincia, shy and demure Elincia, wanted to ask Ike in person? Up close? And, almost assuredly, while he was still shirtless?

'This should be interesting,' she inwardly mused.

(End)

Ranulf: You should see me without a shirt, I'm incredible.

Falchion1984: No comment. Anyhow, I hope that I presented the dilemma in a realistic fashion. And, hopefully, Ike's altruistic nature (whereas most Mercenaries would be highly opportunistic and pragmatic) as well as her misreading his reactions to the incidents in Begnion presents a likely source of confusion for Elincia. These misunderstandings, along with Ike long delay in telling her how he felt, will be a source of tension later on. One goal I have for this fic is to give Lucia a little more dimension than in the game. I rather liked her, but her role was dreadfully small and I hope that her relationship, as I present it, seems like the sort sisterly relationship I'm going for. A bit more candid, since they're away from scrutinizing eyes, but considerate to her obvious distress. Also, Geoffrey's getting over Elincia (or has he?) was taken from his Supports with Callil and Lucia's efforts to nudge Ike and Elincia together are an effort to clear the air as well as put to rest Geoffrey's hopeless infatuation, hence her convincing him to go to Gallia for the Officer Exchange Program. Though, the question of whether or not he'll see it in such a positive light remains. As you may recall, in 'Divergence,' Ike experienced a conflict of loyalties when he realized he loved Elincia and believed in King Ramon's dream and, until receiving the scabbard, faced the questions about where his loyalties and destiny lay. Here, Elincia is experiencing a similar conflict which, on the side, I hope can provide her with more emotional dimension than the game did.

Mist: I'm bored.

Falchion1984: Shut up. Also, since somebody's going to ask me this sooner or later, I may as well say it: I haven't played Radiant Dawn and I'm not sure if I'm going to. Certain elements will come into play here and in other fics, such as Ike's new buffness and others to be determined at a later date, but I wasn't pleased with Intelligent Systems. I had a PoR savegame with all the A Supports for the couples I wanted and everybody maxed out through copious use of cheat codes, but the new Supports system screwed all the pairings I wanted.

Ranulf: Hey, no swearing! This is a T rated story.

Falchion1984: Sorry. I also wasn't happy with how they made Sephiran some sort of semi-villain immortal since I had a better role in mind for my story. And, they crapped up that plan too.

Mist: Hey!

Falchion1984: Sorry. Anyhow, this is why I intend to write FE9 fanfiction to form a sort of fan-sequel where Path of Radiance will get the hot s*% sequel it should've gotten.

Ranulf: That does it! *Jams a bar of soap into Falchion1984's mouth*

Falchion1984: *Gargles angrily*

Mist: Not until you've learned your lesson.

Falchion1984: *Begins jumping up and down angrily until the floor gives out from under him*

Ranulf: Well, that's what you get for going off your diet. Well, review and see you later.


	3. Chapter 3

Falchion1984: Hey there. Well, it took some time in traction, a little rehab, a good bit of dieting, quite a lot of painkillers and the soap in my mouth so long necessitated that my taste buds undergo reconstructive surgery, but I'm back. Here we go again! Now, this chapter will get into the Festival itself and set the stage for Ike and Elincia to have their overdue chat. This chapter will also involve a good bit of cultural interchange that should… Caineghis: *Rides pasts on an imaginary horse followed by Ranulf who's banging two empty halves of cocoanuts together* Falchion1984: What the…? Janaff: *On castle parapet* Halt! Who goes there? Caineghis: It is I, Arthur, son of Uther Pendragon, from the castle of Camelot. King of the Britons, defeater of the Saxons, Sovereign of all England! Janaff: Pull the other one! Caineghis: I am,... *Gestures towards Ranulf* and this is my trusty servant Patsy. Ranulf: *Grumbles* Caineghis: We have ridden the length and breadth of the land in search of knights who will join me in my court at Camelot. I must speak with your lord and master. Janaff: What? Ridden on a horse? Caineghis: Yes! Janaff: You're using coconuts! Caineghis: What? Janaff: You've got two empty halves of coconut and you're bangin' 'em together. Caineghis: So? We have ridden since the snows of winter covered this land, through the kingdom of Mercia, through-- Janaff: Where'd you get the coconuts? Caineghis: We found them. Janaff: Found them? In Mercia? The coconut's tropical! Caineghis: What do you mean? Janaff: Well, this is a temperate zone. Caineghis: The swallow may fly south with the sun or the house martin or the plover may seek warmer climes in winter, yet these are not strangers to our land? Janaff: Are you suggesting coconuts migrate? Falchion1984: Oooookay. Why don't you read the chapter while I figure out what's going on here. Oh, DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fire Emblem or the movie that the Laguz are reenacting, but I do own the O.C's, the Demosthene dance and the game of Doraven. Read on to find out what these are.

(Ike)

Settling his shovel aside, Ike seated himself against the newly cleaned cistern. One callused hand wiped at his moistened brow, doubtless streaking grime across his already dirty forehead, and an exhausted breath escaped his lips. His arms were tired from the labor, he had a cramped muscle or two and he was positive that the long hours of working in the hot sun left him smelling simply terrible. Still, it was worth it. Now that the cistern was cleared of rubble and dust, it would help to provide water to at least several homes nearby.

'Speaking of which,' a suddenly thirsty Ike thought.

His arms were too sore and stiff at the moment to permit him to heave himself upright, so he decided to simply catch his breath. He drew in a long breath through his nostrils, which promptly confirmed his theory regarding how he presently smelled, and let his eyelids descend. Disregarding the hardness of the stone, he leaned against it and let his head tilt backwards to allow the rays of the fierce sun to warm his tanned face. The humid air, combined with his exhaustion, caused him to relax and, despite the noise of the construction, nearly lulled him to sleep. An impossible sensation of repose came over him as he let his body relax for the first time in too long, drawing in his toils as if air gathered via inhalation, and then letting it fountain out again taking the strains and hardship of the day's work with it.

His thoughts began to wander, mostly in the direction of the coming Festival, and his mind's eye began to fill with images of him and Elincia during the dance. Almost as if his thoughts had conjured her in full, he could perceive the silken coils of her emerald hair, the rich vanilla aroma of her perfume and the sweet, if soft, sound of her voice. As if his imaginings had also conjured the feel of her lips against his, warmth climbed his cheeks and a small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Ah, there you are," a familiar voice rang out.

Suddenly, Ike's arms didn't feel stiff anymore nor was he sleepy. His eyes shot open and he heaved himself to his feet.

"Sephiran!" Ike greeted, grinning and bounding over to his old friend.

The sight of the Prime Minister of Begnion, clad in the robes of ivory silk and violent sash that characterized his illustrious post, shaking hands with the bare-chested and wildly perspiring Ike assuredly made an interesting sight. If Sephiran was at all perturbed by Ike's appearance, or his smell for that matter, it was invisible.

"I see you've been busy," Sephiran commented, his nose crinkling slightly.

Ike chuckled, unable to suppress a feeling of mischievous delight in Sephiran's minor discomfort. He knew that, despite Sephiran's Noble breeding, he had a streak of rudeness in him and the two would often take playful jabs at one another.

Still, all their conversations eventually turned serious. And, Ike already suspected where this one would head.

"What brings you here?" Ike asked. "I thought Tanith was acting as Begnion's representative."

"True," Sephiran answered, his serene smile dawning on his features. "This is more of a…personal errand."

Ike didn't bother asking what that errand was, he already knew.

"Are you coming to the Festival?" Ike inquired.

"Indeed," Sephiran replied. "I suspect that it will be a celebration of particular interest."

Again, Ike did not inquire as to what Sephiran was getting at. Sephiran already knew about Ike's plans to ask Elincia to marry him. In fact, he'd played a major role in helping the notion to form in Ike's mind.

"You intend to go through with your plan then?" Sephiran asked.

"Tonight," Ike answered firmly, "at the Festival."

Sephiran accepted this with a nod, and another chuckle escaped Ike's lips.

"I wanted to do this long ago," Ike admitted. "But, I needed to think over some things first."

Sephiran gazed at Ike as if suddenly uncertain whom he was speaking to.

"Ike thinking before acting?" Sephiran asked in mild astonishment. "A precedent has been broken."

The corners of Ike's mouth drew downward. These frequent insinuations that he too rarely thought before acting, although true, were getting old.

"Hey," Ike interjected, trying not to sound irritated, "I needed to set things to rights. The Greil Mercenaries already knew about me and Elincia, Heck, they knew before I did, but we needed to get the Company settled. The Fort's finally rebuilt, Titania is going to take over as Commander, and we've managed to figure out where jobs are most likely to crop up. Also, Zihark, Ilyana and Astrid have moved back to Crimea and have joined the Company. And…well, I wanted to spend some time with Mist. Losing father was bad enough but finding out about Lehran's Medallion, and how mother died, hit her hard and I wanted to make sure that she's alright. She DOES seem better, she and Mia are already picking out wallpaper and tablecloths for the Fort and she's started replanting her flower garden."

Ike was aware that, for the first time in his life, he was just babbling. He'd always been a direct man, sometimes to the point where it could be considered rude, but this was an exception. Saying goodbye to the Greil Mercenaries, even if they had already given him their blessing, had been hard. They were his family and, beyond saying what might be final farewells, he wanted to ensure that they were well taken care of. It had almost been redundant, the Greil Mercenaries still enjoyed the reputation of War Heroes. They had jobs aplenty and, even after the expenses of rebuilding the Fort, funding was practically a non-issue. Add in Zihark, Ilyana and Astrid having joined up and the Greil Mercenaries seemed to be in the best shape they'd been since their founding.

This had gladdened Ike's heart. Even if he was leaving his family, he still loved them and, as the inscription on the scabbard they'd given him had said, bonds of love and brotherhood are eternal. Though Ike was venturing into a new world and a new life, the bonds he shared with the Greil Mercenaries would remain in his heart always.

"What about the ring?" Sephiran asked.

Ike, brightening, reached into his pocket.

"Right here," he replied.

Ike had the ring box out and was about to open it when a familiar voice rang out from behind him. A very familiar voice.

"My Lord Ike," the voice called out.

Ike, surprised, whirled to face the approaching Elincia, hastily stuffing the ring box back into his pocket. Thankfully, she was far away enough that she didn't notice anything odd.

Still, that had been entirely too close.

As was often the case, she wore her orange gown and her emerald hair hung to her shoulders with two tendrils framing her delicate face. And, this sight made Ike suddenly self conscious. A long day spent rebuilding houses and shoveling out cisterns had left him slathered in sweat and grime and smelling terrible. He also had a funny feeling that there was some sort of correlation between his shirtless state and the faint blush on Elincia's face.

He also had another funny feeling that Sephiran found this circumstance to be rather amusing.

Straightening up, inclining his head respectfully and hoping that she wasn't downwind of him, he smiled and greeted her.

"Elincia," he began, "it's good to see you."

As had been the case in the past, he didn't realize he'd called her by her name until after the fact. But, he consoled himself with the knowledge that, when he'd done so during his confrontation with Apostle Sanaki and while talking to Elincia just before the Liberation of Melior, she had liked being called such. Again, it wasn't intentional, but it felt good. In fact, Elincia had been trying to show him the same courtesy.

Still, old habits die hard.

"My Lor…," Elincia began, seeming to catch herself. "Ike, I was wondering. Are you planning to come to the Festival tonight?"

"Of course," Ike replied, brightening. "I'm looking forward to it."

Indeed, he was looking forward to the Festival. He was rather eager to show Elincia just how much.

"Oh…wonderful!" Elincia replied, unable to conceal her surprise. "I…I was wondering if you'd be interested in being my escort."

Ike blinked. The Queen had no escort? He'd half expected dozens of Nobles to be running one another through for what she'd just freely offered him. But, then again, such was probably too much to hope for.

"I'd be honored," Ike replied.

Ike's response was automatic for his thoughts had migrated elsewhere and he was barely conscious of the moment. In his mind's eye, it was already that evening and he was already at the Festival. And, he was already asking for her hand in marriage. His inattention toward the present moment cost him for, by the time the warning shouted from the scaffold above jarred him back to reality, it was too late. His vision was suddenly, and rather completely obscured by what he strongly suspected was an overturned pail of mortar that had fallen from above to engulf his head.

He jerked the pail up and over his head, extracting it from the thick, cement-like mixture, and began to carefully wipe at his eyes and spit out the mortar that managed to get into his mouth. After that, he assessed the damage, which was considerable. The mortar had slathered his face and torso in thick, gray paste and had radically altered the coloring of his pants and boots.

'Oh,' he inwardly groused, 'that will help me make a good impression.'

"Oh goodness!" Elincia exclaimed. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Ike replied, still rather embarrassed.

He glanced up at the scaffold from which the pail must've fallen. A Beorc laborer on the second tier had moved close to the edge and was gazing down at him. He looked stricken and decidedly nervous.

"Ach, goodness, gracious me!" he exclaimed in the thick burr characteristic of Crimea's northern regions. "Are ye alright Milord?"

Ike brought up one hand to shade his eyes, half to see the laborer against the sun's glare and half to make sure that the mortar still in his hair didn't get in his eyes.

"I'm alright," Ike shouted back. "And…"

"Don't call ye that," the laborer finished. "Beggin' yer pardon Mi…laddie, old habits be hard to break."

"Yeah, yeah," Ike muttered in resignation. "Is anyone hurt up there?"

"Nay," the laborer replied, "just clumsiness. I was backin' up to let young lad Riley go past me 'n me foot knocked the pail over. Beggin' yer forgiveness."

Ike inwardly growled, he could hardly blame the laborer for what was simply an accident. Still, why did that have to happen now?

Ike turned back to face Elincia and Sephiran. Sephiran, naturally, looked as if he was struggling not to burst out laughing. Ike had to fight down the urge to hurl a glob of mortar in the offender's face.

In fact, Ike was so focused on ignoring Sephiran that he didn't notice Elincia moving closer to him until he suddenly felt her fingertips on his chin.

Ike, surprised at suddenly finding Elincia's face inches from his own, found his cheeks becoming warm. Very warm. Elincia had snatched the coarse cloth that Ike kept on his belt, and began working to wipe away some of the excess goop from his face. Ike tensed briefly, he always did when under a healer's ministrations, but he soon relaxed despite the scratchy feel of the coarse cloth against his skin. They'd had contact like this often during the war, when Elincia would act as a healer following battle and would often roll bandages and apply salves to a battered Ike. Remembering those moments, Ike felt himself briefly relax. Briefly because he saw Sephiran's face out of the corner of his eye, one eyebrow cocked and trying to keep a straight face. Ike suddenly felt that sense of self-consciousness return.

Elincia also worked to keep a straight face as she spoke.

"You might want to wash up and change before the Festival though," she told him, the barest hint of a giggle in her voice.

"Yes," Sephiran concurred. "It is free dress, but not that free."

'That's the last straw,' Ike inwardly snarled. 'The next pail of mortar I find has his name on it.'

After a few moments of being wiped down by the coarse cloth, Ike was as clean as he was likely to get until he could find a wash basin or a stream. Elincia examined her work, nodded approvingly and, surprising herself as much as the two men, pecked Ike on the cheek.

"I'll see you at the Festival," she told him, somewhat breathlessly, and hurried off.

Ike waved at her, though doubted that she saw, and let out a contended sigh. His contentment, however, was brief.

"You know Ike," Sephiran cut in, his words punctuated by the occasional chuckle, "this might be a blessing in disguise. Perhaps the mortar will enhance your stony, chiseled countenance."

Sephiran laughed hard at his own pun, Ike did not join in.

Ike extended his thumb and forefinger, holding their tips a minute distance apart from one another.

"You're about this close to getting a free sample, if you get my meaning," he said warningly.

(Lucia)

"Not bad," Lucia quipped. "Not bad at all."

As the sun's westward descent painted the sky with orange and gold, the work in Melior slowly came to a halt as the hour of the Festival approached. More than a few had to be encouraged to leave, protesting that they wanted to 'get in one more nail' or 'set a few more bricks' or some such thing.

'Men,' Lucia mused tritely, 'so single-minded.'

The Festival was a rather modest affair. The Gryphion Plains, the rolling grasslands between Melior and Fort Pinell, had been converted into a small village of tents, banquet tables and an arc of chairs, music stands and instruments intended for use by the various musicians that could be recruited for the affair. At the heart of this 'village' was an empty area that would, assuredly, brim over when the dancing commenced. It was a far cry from the gaudy balls that Lucia had attended since taking her place as a Courtier, but that was alright.

She had a funny feeling that this was going to be a memorable occasion.

Lucia began to walk about the Festival grounds, glancing about at nothing in particular as she tried to take in the scene as a whole. The first thing that caught her eye was, oddly enough, a hastily made sign that read 'No Dogs Allowed.' When she inquired, she learned that the sign had been added following an altercation at a nearby farming village involving Ranulf, five hunting dogs, eight wolfhounds, twelve sheepdogs, eighteen golden retrievers, forty seven St. Bernards and one Pug.

The witnesses had been visibly disinclined to offer details.

The tables were covered with various foods, most were a variety of interesting looking dishes made from combinations of Gallia's wild fruits and Crimean fish and vegetables. A few others were meat dishes, some salted and others basted with a sauce so spicy that the vapor billowing off them made her eyes water.

'That should please Ike,' Lucia inwardly snickered.

She had, on one occasion, seen the heavily spiced meat that was Ike's preference but she didn't sample any. She was in no mood to risk an acute case of heartburn. Besides, the candied apples looked far more appealing to her.

There were very few pastries, aside from a few experimental dishes made from the mountain berries that Phoenicis had begun to export in small quantities and, rather than wine, there was spring water and lemonade. Through gaps in the spread of plates and platters, Lucia could see the tables themselves. They were…rather mismatched. Gathered from whether they could be purchased or borrowed or loaned out, they were all of differing styles and shapes, degrees of ornamentation and wear, types of wood, length, width and height. When Lucia looked closer however, she noticed something: someone amongst the staff had compensated for the mismatched tables by arranging them in a fashion that crudely mimicked the Marhaut Range, the rugged land where the Crimean Liberation Army had united with Gallia's Army, with the taller tables emulating the mesas and plateaus while the lower tables acted as the canyons and gorges.

This, slightly eccentric, display of creative ingenuity elicited a small grin and a nearly inaudible laugh from Lucia. Now that she thought about it, the display actually acted as a small representation of Crimea itself.

So many mismatched parts that, when put together in the right way, could be made into something good. Rather like the burgeoning alliance between the Beorc and the Laguz, or the Crimean Liberation Army and its various allies.

'And,' Lucia mused with a snicker, 'probably like a certain Mercenary-turned-General and a certain Queen.'

A snatch of speech caught Lucia's ear and, turning, she found herself facing the first arrivals. The musicians that had been recruited, ranging from toddlers to elders, found their instruments of choice and began to practice.

Others were beginning to trickle in, including the first few guests. Some began to mingle, looking for a familiar face or an interesting stranger to converse with, while others tried to make their way to the food spread across the creatively arranged tables, only to be deterred by the Head Waiter who informed them that the Festival would start at sundown and no sooner.

Lucia suspected that this declaration had caused more than a few to think unkindly of the Head Waiter.

The man who would be conducting the improvised orchestra had also arrived; he was now looking over his new charges with the barest hint of surprise. Not that he could be blamed; the orchestra players were even more mismatched than the tables. Most of the woodwind players looked too young to even be allowed outdoors at this hour, only two or three of them reaching past Lucia's waist in height. The bass drum player was a brawny and almost clumsy looking man, reminding Lucia of a marginally leaner Brom, who looked as one more at home chopping wood or plowing than playing music. Finally, the harpist was so aged and scrawny that he resembled less a man and more a skeleton covered in a clay of muscle and sinew. An oddity about him was that he seemed to have no lips.

Lucia once considered Oscar's perpetual squint to be unaccountably scary, but that had nothing on the near-skeletal grin eternally visible through the man's lipless mouth.

Still, the Conductor watched and listened as the players rehearsed. After a few minutes of silent listening and contemplation, he gave a small shrug coupled with a relieved smile which found a twin on Lucia's face. What the improvised orchestra lacked in looks, it made up for in talent. The Conductor took his Baton in one hand, adjusted his grip and assumed his place. He seemed anxious to see just what this mismatched orchestra could do.

As the sun finally vanished into the briny depths of the sea, and the first few stars began to punctuate the darkening sky, the Festival began in earnest. There was only one last detail that had to be attended to.

Still, those last details tended to be the tricky ones.

(Elincia)

"Are you…quite certain?" Elincia asked, her tone verging on pleading.

"I'm afraid so," Lucia replied. "Well, it isn't required, but it is expected. Besides, I'm sure you can manage it. That speech you gave just before the Liberation of Melior was excellent."

Though Elincia was inwardly in near hysteric dread at the prospect of giving a speech, the outward effect was confined to a trembling of the lower lip. Ike had met her at Castle Crimea, as promised, to escort her to the Festival. When she beheld him, she had to struggle to keep her jaw from dropping. It wasn't that Ike had altered his clothes; he still wore his blue tunic, white leggings, leather boots and his distinctive red cloak. It wasn't that he had cleaned himself up, which he had. It wasn't that he'd splashed some cologne on his face, though it had certainly surprised her and she couldn't help but think that the spicy aroma suited him. It was, perhaps, the way he'd smiled when he saw her. Maybe it was the way he extended his hand for her to take, or the feel of his fingers against her own. It might have been the feel of his hand about her waist. Perhaps it was the way he had, somehow, avoided calling her 'Queen,' 'Milady,' 'Your Highness' or 'Your Majesty' all evening.

Or, maybe it was something else. Something less definable.

The two of them made their way to the Festival, conversing lightly about recent goings-on. Ike had seemed halfway between amused and sympathetic while she spoke of the morning's Council Meeting. Elincia had been deliberately brief, talking with amusement about Silok's less-than-successful attempt at playing the Sax and with frustration over the eternal infuriation that was La Roche. This had elicited a groan from Ike.

Ike had also met La Roche on a few occasions, all of which had likely been quite unpleasant, but Ike had been hesitant to offer details.

Elincia, in turn, had asked about how the Greil Mercenaries were doing and Ike's reply carried an odd flavor of nostalgia. He relayed to her the rebuilding of the Fort and Soren and Titania researching where jobs were likely to crop up as well as Zihark, Ilyana and Astrid's return to Crimea and their joining the Company. She and Ike also shared a good laugh as he expressed some comically exaggerated dread about Mist and Mia's plans for decorating the new Fort. Titania had anticipated that the Company siding with Crimea would cause their stock to rise, and she'd been right.

Jobs were cropping up left and right and the Greil Mercenaries would soon have more gold then they'd know what to do with. Elincia was only too willing to credit this to Ike's leadership, even though he'd surely disagree.

One thing that struck her as odd was that, as he concluded his talk about the Greil Mercenaries, Ike said 'they'll do fine.'

Why 'they'll' as opposed to 'we'll?'

Elincia felt a sudden, irrational surge of hope but she dispelled it. He was, more likely, talking about Rolf and Mist who were now official members of the Company. Or, for that matter, he might've been talking about Mia, Ilyana, Zihark and Astrid fitting into the group. She took care to reassemble her usual, calm expression before Ike noticed anything untoward.

They reached the Festival just as the orange and gold of the sky began to give way to the stars, the Gryphion Plains now roiled with celebration. The orchestra, whose wildly varied membership had caught both their attention, was playing a lively tune to which many were dancing to at dizzying speeds. Other Beorc and Laguz were scattered about talking, laughing and enjoying the modest but delicious refreshments. More than a few had congregated around Soren and Ranulf who were engaged in a game of Doraven, the spectators murmuring excitedly as the game continued.

Doraven was, at least to Elincia's eyes, a fascinating game bearing some similarity to Beorc Chess. She never had mastered that game, and she rather doubted she'd understand Doraven either. She did know the rules however. The pieces used in Doraven were tiny wooden figurines affixed to a circular wooden base, and the figurines had been carved and painted with incredible skill. The Cat Laguz acted as the Pawns, the Raven Laguz were the Rooks, the Tiger Laguz were the Knights, the Hawk Laguz were the Bishops and the Dragon Laguz and Heron Laguz acted as the Queen and King respectively. All the pieces were in their humanoid forms, but that would change.

Like their flesh and blood counterparts, the Laguz used in Doraven could transform into deadly Beast forms. And, this added a new level of complexity to the game. On one side of the table was a pair of small racks adorned with images of the pieces and filled with blue counters inscribed with numbers. The counters were made of a material that was difficult to identify. They were smooth, multifaceted and partly transparent, which gave the impression of tinted glass. Yet, Elincia had yet to see a Beorc craftsman with the skill to form tinted glass into such small vessels. And, when she'd had the opportunity to handle one of the counters, it felt more like crystal than glass and much sturdier than its appearance suggested.

As each new turn began, these counters were replaced with new ones with a lower number. When the number zero was reached, a piece of the corresponding type would transform and the blue counters would be replaced with red ones to denote how many turns before the transformed piece reverted to normal. While transformed, a Cat Laguz/Pawn could move one space in any direction rather than forward only and a transformed Tiger Laguz/Knight gained the ability to move in one L shaped pattern followed by a second. A transformed Hawk Laguz/Bishop would gain the ability to move vertically and horizontally in addition to diagonally while the reverse occurred for the transformed Raven Laguz/Rook. The Dragon Laguz/Queen and the Heron Laguz/King gained interesting abilities after transforming. The Dragon Laguz/Queen gained the ability to bypass friendly pieces in its path, much the same way a Tiger Laguz/Knight did. And, after the Heron Laguz/King transformed, if its move stopped next to a friendly piece then that piece could immediately move.

The artistic skill that was invested in designing something as simple as a game left many bewildered. Knowing that this was created by Laguz, combined with Doraven becoming a veritable craze in Crimea, had dealt a surprising blow to the stereotypes labeling Laguz as unthinking animals.

Soren, ever the harsh critic, had researched the game's rules and tactics with interest but claimed that the meticulous crafting of the pieces and counters served no practical purpose.

Lethe was handling the counters and switching out the normal pieces for the transformed ones and vice-versa. As always, her face was a mask of impatience and aggravation.

Elincia understood the rules of Doraven but doubted that she'd last five minutes against either of the two competitors. In fact, to her amateur's eye it looked as if Ranulf and Soren were evenly matched.

When Lucia had suddenly appeared and asked to speak with her privately in one of the tents, Elincia had been abruptly struck with a sense of déjà vu. She hoped it was just her imagination, but she was wrong.

"Well," Elincia began, her speech degenerating into stutters, "I…um, that is to say…when I gave that speech I was emulating Count Bastian."

This was the truth, largely. When she was asked to address the combined Beorc/Laguz Army, she was near frozen with dread. Much as Ike dreaded that a tactical blunder on his part would cost a friend's life, she feared that the wrong words from her would cause the Army's morale to flag. Not having many options, she thought of the people she knew to have great charisma, namely her father, her uncle and Count Bastian, and tried to imagine what they'd say and do in her position.

She still had no idea why she'd decided upon Count Bastian but, strangely, it worked. At first, there was a quaver in her voice and her body was trembling invisibly. But, gradually the words seem to come to her more easily and her voice became steadier. And, as it ended, she felt a cool wave of relief wash over her. Ike though, he was another story altogether. He was as direct and straightforward as ever and yet there was a concealed eloquence in his speech, when he shared the meaning of Greil's words at the same time that he finally understood them.

The force of Beorc and Laguz soldiers were a family, but bound by bonds of brotherhood, common goals, a shared enemy and mutual respect garnered from shared experience, rather than by blood ties. They would fight for one another, they would support each other and one that fell would be mourned as if of their own flesh and blood.

Did the words come that easily to Ike naturally or because he was speaking for Greil? Elincia could not guess.

As these thoughts finished chasing one another through Elincia's mind, Lucia's face had taken on a curious expression. It looked as if she were trying to smirk and cringe at the same time.

"That…," Lucia began, her tone somehow neutral, "is probably…not a technique worth reusing."

Elincia, somehow, found herself laughing lightly at Lucia's reaction. Bastian had made no secret that he was enchanted by Lucia, but Lucia had rebuked his every advance. Not that this stopped him from coming back, however. Still, Elincia suspected that Lucia had decided that she had way too much of Bastian in her life as it was.

Strangely, she suddenly felt better. And, oddly enough, her mind suddenly seemed clearer, as though the cold fog of dread that had lingered upon her mind had suddenly coiled back upon itself, permitting her thoughts to form and flow rather than be frozen away. The words she needed suddenly came to her, almost as if they were there all along but that she'd been too flustered to notice them.

"Well," Elincia began, "I suppose that I cannot disappoint them."

Lucia responded with an approving smile and moved alongside her.

"Let's go then," Lucia replied.

The two women exited the tent and made their way toward the Festival, which was still in full swing, in fact it seemed more festive now than it had when Ike and Elincia had arrived. The expanse of grassland which had been empty mere hours ago, and teeming with guests minutes before, was now jammed with people conversing, laughing, dancing, eating and generally enjoying the occasion to the fullest. The music was also remarkably beautiful, what the orchestra lacked in looks they made up for in skill. The music of the orchestra mingled with the crowd's own music, a song of laughter, relief, contentment and optimism that readily complemented the horns, woodwinds, strings and drums of the orchestra. They made their way to the podium, which the Conductor readily relinquished.

Elincia took the podium and suddenly became aware that everyone had turned in her direction, well, except for Ranulf and Soren who were determined to have their contest reach a decisive conclusion. The sudden scrutiny caused a hint of terror to curdle in her bones. That familiar fear, the dread that the wrong word would be fatal, spread frost through her chest that threatened to freeze away her voice. Then, her eyes met Ike's. The aqua gaze with which he regarded her, much as it was on the day of her Coronation, was calm, patient and silently conveyed his faith. The frost in her chest thawed and, taking a deep breath, she began.

"I trust that you are all enjoying yourselves?" she inquired, deciding that a simple start would be best.

Shouts of agreement, so loud that it disrupted one of Ranulf's moves, erupted in reply.

"I am glad to hear that," Elincia replied, feelingly. "When I spoke to you two years ago, before the Liberation of Melior, I vowed that I would thank each and every one who had struggled and toiled for Crimea. This…falls far short of what you deserve, but I hope that it is at least a start."

More than a few of those in attendance took this as a display of ironic humor, but there was nothing funny about it. It was true that Crimea owed its troops, its laborers and its allies more than this modest Festival, more than Crimea itself could hope to repay, but the promise she'd made had been made in earnest. And, she hoped to ultimately keep it.

"I still remember," she continued, "when the Crimean Liberation Army crossed Riven Bridge, when I realized just how little I knew of my own country. While the Army marched, and as we passed the cities and villages that had been ruined in the War, I could not even guess what those places looked like beforehand. But, I could see the looks on the faces of Crimea's soldiers. They looked at these places with anger or horror or sadness or regret and I realized just how beautiful those places used to be. And, I feared that that beauty was lost to us."

Here, she had to pause. Those terrible memories were still fresh, and not just for her. Many of the Crimean soldiers who'd joined the Crimean Liberation Army had, in fact discovered their homes in ruins and their families either scattered or dead. Vengeance burned in their blood and, during the Liberation of Melior, many of them sought to strike at Ashnard in retribution for these crimes. Of those who tried that, few survived.

"However," she interjected, "I stand corrected. Many times I have looked out onto Melior from Castle Crimea's balcony, and it never ceases to amaze me how much Melior changes every time I look. When the Reconstruction began, the Commons Quarter was a pile of rubble, now it's standing and everyone who was forced to flee has moved back in. Two weeks ago, the Market Quarter was in ruins. Yesterday, it was open and it was full. I can't even guess at the labor this meant, I cannot conceive the toil that these tasks demanded. But, I know this: if my father were still here he would be proud beyond words of all of you."

Contemplation of her father caused Elincia's eyes to grow hot and she had to blink back tears before she continued.

"But," she went on, "the success of the Reconstruction isn't the only miracle that has come to pass. Another spectacle I witnessed was the Crimean Beorc finally coming to trust their Laguz allies. This was no small matter, nor did it come easily. Yet, there were a few that knew that the Beorc and Laguz need each other in order to survive, that they can accomplish great things together and that they could become friends and brothers. Travel anywhere in Crimea and you can see it: Beorc and Laguz cooperating, coming to trust one another and turning this country into a dream, a promise, made real."

Cheers and applause burst forth from the guests, louder and louder until one at a distance might've mistaken the sound for a summer storm.

Elincia barely noticed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she was watching Ike. Why this was so, even she could not say. Perhaps she sought his approval. Maybe, believing that Ike still wanted to leave, she wanted to show him that his task was done and that he was free to go. Or, quite possibly, she simply found it difficult to avert her eyes from him. Whatever the reason, it wasn't until the applause died down that she snapped back to attention and concluded her speech.

"Our labor isn't over," she admitted, "but, after seeing what has been achieved over the past two years, I know that this task can be accomplished. For now, however, let us enjoy this respite. You have all earned it many times over."

Once again, there was a veritable eruption of applause. Elincia stepped down from the podium, letting out a long sigh of relief and rubbing at her temples. That went better than she'd thought but, all the same, she found herself hoping she wouldn't be asked to give another speech for some time.

Then, she suddenly felt very tired. So incredibly tired, as if that speech had sapped the last of her strength, which had been sorely tested by the countless issues cropping up in the Council and her unceasing worries about Ike. Unseen by the party goers, she braced herself against on of the buffet tables and lowered her face into her upturned hand.

(Ike)

Ike was at her side in an instant, one hand gently gripping her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" he asked, "You look pale."

She jumped slightly under his hand and there was a sharp intake of breath at his sudden appearance.

"Sorry," Ike apologized, a bit sheepishly. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Elincia turned to face him, and he was forced to mentally revise his earlier statement. She wasn't just pale, her face had taken on the bloodless ivory coloring he had once been positive he'd only see on Reyson or Leanne. And, she kept rubbing at her temples as if to banish some chronic pain.

She looked, now that he came to think about it, much like she did when he found her in the Throne Room after her Coronation, frozen with dread. Even when she composed her face into her usual expression of serenity, it seemed unconvincing to his eyes and the voice that replied to him was tired and shaky.

"It's nothing My Lor…," Elincia cut herself off, an embarrassed laugh escaping her lips. "Thank you Ike, but I'm fine."

Ike wasn't convinced, one thing he and Elincia had in common was that they were both terrible liars. Still, Ike accepted this with a nod and made a mental note to stay close to her.

Not that such wasn't part of the original plan, of course.

"Maybe you should sit down for a bit," Ike suggested, searching in vain for a chair.

He suddenly found himself wondering if it would be wise to go through with his plan. It was obvious that the young Queen had been working herself too hard, Mist and Titania had commented on it to Ike once or twice and Ike did not envy one who had to deal with a room full of politicians day in and day out.

Ike had once thought that he'd trade places with her in an instant if he thought it would help her, but then was forced to laugh at the absurdity of the notion. Even after leafing through those books on politics and Court Etiquette, and even attaining a basic understanding of them, the image of him chairing a Council Meeting was too ridiculous to envision.

Inwardly chuckling at the notion, he put one arm around Elincia's shoulder and let her lean on him.

"No," Elincia protested, a bit more forcefully. "I'm alright. It's just…it's just been a trying day."

Again, Ike wasn't quite convinced. While his perceptions were hardly subtle, he could sense that Elincia was profoundly troubled. It might've been her unnatural paleness, or maybe how shaky her voice had seemed earlier. Perhaps it was how she seemed strangely tense in his grip, in contrast to her seeming fatigue. Or, something else. Something less definable. Still, he trusted Elincia enough to tell him what was wrong when she was ready.

"Alright," Ike relented, somewhat hesitantly, "just let me know if you don't feel well."

Elincia replied, unexpectedly, with a slight laugh. One of Ike's eyebrows arched in puzzlement, though Elincia didn't seem to notice.

"Ike," Elincia began, for once remembering to drop the 'My Lord,' "I appreciate your concern but I can handle myself now."

Ike blinked in surprise. There was something in Elincia's tone that he hadn't heard before. He could still detect the air of underlying fatigue but there was more to it than that. It was deeper than he remembered, firmer and, oddly enough, it sounded as if she was saying that more to herself than to him. Yet, he could also detect an odd hesitation in her words, as though she was forcing herself to say them.

'Where did that come from?' Ike couldn't help but wonder.

That musing was left incomplete as the attention of the two was then diverted to the orchestra. The Beorc players were relinquishing their places to their Laguz counterparts who'd arrived equipped with a number of horns, woodwinds, drums and stringed instruments that were assuredly unknown to the Beorc amongst the audience. Ike, however, was an exception/ Besides the Sax, Ike recognized a peculiar horn that Ranulf had dubbed the Bone and a stringed instrument referred to as the Base as well as others he could not yet name.

The tune the Laguz played, though alien to Elincia, was well known to Ike.

In fact, it had grown on him of late.

"That's the Demosthene," Ike told her, extending an upturned hand. "It's supposed to be a 'Dance of Rebirth,' or something like that. It's…pretty wild. Are you up for it?"

The impossibly long instant that followed saw a whiff of nostalgia flash through Ike's mind, as he recalled a similar moment in the Throne Room of Castle Crimea. There, after he gave an amusingly curt but strangely effective speech to help her gather her courage, she had smiled radiantly, taken his hand and they left to greet the people. Looking into Elincia's face, he found a very different expression there. It was calm, accepting of this unspoken challenge, but there was a strange wistfulness beneath that worried him. Forlorn, almost sad, and Ike was suddenly, inexplicably certain that this had nothing to do with her 'trying day.'

He also had a funny feeling that there was some sort of connection between this oddity and her earlier statement.

This puzzled him, bothered him. Still, he trusted her to confide in him when she was willing and led her to the dance floor. Well, 'dance floor' was probably an exaggeration, there was no floor at all but no one seemed to mind.

The music, as was customary in Laguz composition, was unpredictable in both tempo and rhythm. At least, it was such to the amateur's ear and Ike suspected that the Festival was replete with amateurs. Sometimes the rhythm was regular, either swift and vigorous or slow and sinuous, but then it would alter completely and seemingly without warning. And, the actual movements of the dance were, as Ike had put it, a little wild.

Ike had been instructed in some of the finer points of Laguz dance days earlier, though he'd been astonished at some of the steps involved. Compared to the slow, he dared say stiff, waltzes that were common in Beorc society, the Laguz dances seemed chaotic, exhausting and…irresistible. They involved a great deal of flexing, spinning, short jumps and…rather interesting hip motions.

While these moves were difficult to master, and were certainly taxing upon one's stamina, they seemed freer, more alive and, now that Ike came to think about it, well suited to the occasion.

The Demosthene was, at least as far as Ike knew, some sort of Dance of Rebirth and what better place for it than Crimea, a nation that, in a manner of speaking, was being born again? The wild moves also made a ready complement to the liberation of Crimea both from Ashnard and from the animosities of the past. And, this Dance of Rebirth also had the feel of literal meaning in it. Almost as though, if a crippled man suddenly found himself able to walk again, then this would be an expression of his joy and ecstasy.

'When did I pick up on this stuff?' Ike suddenly found himself wondering as he concluded his philosophical musings.

Ike suspected that, had he said this aloud, especially with Ranulf present, people might've started wondering if some imposter had replaced him.

'Stupid Cat,' Ike mused sarcastically, remembered an amusing barb of Ranulf's that he'd once received that had gone just like that.

Ike turned his attention back to Elincia, and readily noticed that her gown and slippers were not designed for a dance like this. When Ike made a small jump to one side and then the other, parting his knees in a half crouch and then bringing them together again for another jump, Elincia couldn't follow his move perfectly. Her gown didn't allow her legs the flexibility she needed and the corset she wore beneath doubtless obstructed her attempts to bend forth and back in rhythm with her partner. And, Ike was fairly certain she winced a bit when she touched down from the sideways hops she preformed.

Not that this stopped her, she kept on going.

Eventually, she seemed to get the hang of it. Slowly, without either of them truly noticing, their movements resolved into harmony and, in remarkable synchrony, they continued to jump and spin and flex in rhythm with the music. Watching his partner's motions, watching her lithe form contort, the exertion redden her no-longer-pale complexion and seeing the dusking sun fabric of her gown pull tight about her bosom sent a pulse of adrenaline surging through Ike's veins like a feral river of energy and made him wish the song would go on longer. It set his heart beating like a bass drum, sent trickles of sweat down his forehead, made his breathing to go short and ragged and caused a hardness to form between his legs.

'On second thought,' he realized, 'maybe an encore isn't the best idea.'

Many of the other dancers, all of whom were breathing hard and quite a few of which were picking themselves off the ground after one of their sideways bounds had gone wrong, offered wordless agreement. Still, the two of them weren't the only pair that had been able to figure out this peculiar dance. Rolf and Mist, Rhys and Mia and Zihark and Ilyana had also taken up the challenge. Watching Mist, as her petite figure wriggled, contorted and bounded in near flawless harmony with the music, Ike suddenly found himself wondering if she'd also received instruction in the Demosthene. He also found himself suddenly worried that her motions, coupled with the way her short yellow skirt left her slender legs exposed, might cause some of the younger men present to get ideas. Rolf, whom had partnered up with her, matched her steps with the same surprising stamina and determination that he had shown during the War.

Well before the dance had ended, Rolf's face was thoroughly flushed. Though whether this was attributable to the strenuous motions of the dance or his partner's sinuous moves and exposed legs could not be determined.

Mia, ever her hyper and bouncy-as-hell self, left the dance area bouncing from foot to foot and singing an atonal rendition of the Laguz orchestra's music while Rhys followed, an occasional wheeze parting his lips. Mia was saying something to Rhys and, though the din of the music and dancing seemed to swallow her words, Ike suspected it was something to the effect of 'great exercise for my destined archrival' and 'let's do this more often.'

Rhys' reply was also deflected from Ike's ear by all the noise, but he was positive that it was something to the effect of 'oh dear.'

Ike couldn't decide what impressed him more, that the once sickly Rhys had managed to dance like that without fainting or that he had the patience to tolerate, much less fall in love with, such an explosive and unpredictable woman. Still, as mismatched as the two were, it somehow worked. When Rhys and Mia had first conversed, she'd terrified the living daylights out of him by hurling at her sword at him intending for him to catch it. When Ike learned of the logic behind this, or rather the lack thereof, it all seemed so ridiculous that Mia would consider the frail and oft ill Rhys as her destined archrival. And yet, to everybody's astonishment, Rhys actually took up the challenge. He trained with Mia in the ways of the Myrmidon, even though most such sessions left him nursing a dozen odd cramps, and even began to enjoy her company. By the end of the War the two of them were good friends and a lethal team.

When Mia had ambushed Rhys with her trainer at the signing of the Treaty of Serenes, Rhys had actually succeeded in disarming her and knocking her to the ground with his staff. Just before retiring that same night, Mia had suddenly kissed him.

The others in the Mercenary Company had never let Rhys live that down.

Still, Ike was happy for them and grateful that, as horrible as the War was, at least some good had come out of it.

Zihark and Ilyana had been less fortunate, though their attempt had certainly been memorable. One of Zihark's sideways leaps had gone awry, leaving him balancing unsteadily on one foot and flailing his arms to keep himself upright. Ilyana, apparently mistaking the motion for a dance step, mimicked his motion. Her legs spread, one rising from the ground at an angle, her arms pin wheeling and her head and neck craning back so that her small bosom jutted forward.

This sight made Zihark smirk invisibly.

His instant's distraction cost him as his equilibrium was lost and he fell over backwards. Oddly enough, one of his hands found one of Ilyana's. More interesting still, his fall pulled her down to land on top of him. And, as they landed, his arms mysteriously snaked around her waist so that his grizzled face and her normally ivory pale countenance, which had taken on the coloring of a ripe apple, were now a hairsbreadth apart.

This elicited another smirk from Zihark, but this one was far from invisible.

Ilyana would claim long afterward, indignantly and often, that Zihark did all that on purpose.

And she was probably right.

Eventually, the song ended. Blowing out a tired breath, Ike mopped at his brow and offered a hand to Elincia. She took it, somewhat eagerly, and allowed him to lead the way.

(End)

Falchion1984: Well, I hope you guys enjoyed that. I'm still trying to figure out what's going on with the cast here. The idea for the Demosthene came from some jazz dance videos I saw on YouTube and Doraven was the product of brainstorming on what Laguz chess would look like. Essentially, I took the Laguz participating in battle and mingled it with chess, adding in the counters and a third player to handle them. Doraven might reappear in later chapter, and later fics, though I should probably brush up on my own chess game so that I can use it realistically. Now, let's get this confusion straightened out.

Reyson and Tibarn: *Walk onto the scene dressed in filth covered clothing, Tibarn pulling a cart loaded with dead bodies while Reyson clangs a bell.*

Reyson: Bring out your dead!

Naesala: *Walks over carrying Ulki over his shoulder* Here's one.

Reyson: Ninepence.

Ulki: I'm not dead!

Reyson: What?

Naesala: Nothing. Here's your ninepence.

Ulki: I'm not dead!

Reyson: 'Ere. He says he's not dead!

Naesala: Yes, he is.

Ulki: I'm not!

Reyson: He isn't?

Naesala: Well, he will be soon. He's very ill.

Reyson: I'm getting better!

Naesala: *To Ulki* No, you're not. You'll be stone dead in a moment.

Reyson: Oh, I can't take him like that. It's against regulations.

Ulki: I don't want to go on the cart!

Naesala: *To Ulki* Oh, don't be such a baby.

Reyson: I can't take him.

Ulki: I feel fine!

Naesala: Well, do us a favour.

Reyson: I can't.

Naesala: Well, can you hang around a couple of minutes? He won't be long.

Reyson: No, I've got to go to the Robinsons'. They've lost nine today.

Naesala: Well, when's your next round?

Reyson: Thursday.

Ulki: I think I'll go for a walk.

Naeala: *To Ulki* You're not fooling anyone, you know. *To Reyson* Look. Isn't there something you can do?

Ulki: *Singing* I feel happy. I feel happy.

Reyson: *Clubs Ulki with the bell*

Naesala: Ah, thanks very much.

Tibarn: *Loads Ulki onto the cart*

Reyson: Not at all. See you on Thursday.

Falchion1984: This is giving me the creeps *Spots Mist* Oh, finally!

Mist: *Wearing headphones and jamming to the music* If I should take a notion to jump into the ocean, 'tain't nobody's business if I do. If I go to church on Sunday then cabaret on Monday, 'tain't nobody's business if I do.

Falchion1984: Mist?

Mist: *Still singing* If my friend ain't got no money and I say 'take all mine honey,' 'tain't nobody's business if I do. If I give her my last nickel, and that leaves me in a pickle, 'tain't nobody's business if I do.

Falchion1984: Mist!

Mist *Still singing* There ain't nothing I can do, or nothing I can say, that the folks don't criticize me; but I'm gonna do just as I would do anyway, and I don't care if they all despise me!

Falchion1984: *Under his breath* Yeah, speaking of despising. *Yanks off Mist's headphones* MIST!

Mist: Jeez, no need to yell.

Falchion1984: *Gestures at strange acting Laguz* What's going on here!

Mist: Oh, that? For the cultural interchange, they gave me a Tomas Waller's jazz album and I gave them a copy of 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail.'

Falchion1984: Oh, good grief. Well, please review and maybe I'll have this straightened out by next chapter. Maybe. For parting words, Elincia DID, in fact, emulate Count Bastian when she gave her little speech just before the final level. Don't believe me? Read that portion of the game script, and then read Bastian's dialogue from the game script and his Supports. See the resemblance? Yeah, and Ranulf is troublesome, huh? I don't know if a dog would be able to tell the difference between a Cat Laguz and a real cat, but it stands to reason that the scent would rile them up. Well, please review and wish me luck getting some sense into this place.


	4. Chapter 4

Various Laguz: *Wearing cloaks and cowls that cover the eyes and most of the face, chanting* Pie Iesu domine, dona eis requiem. *Bonk themselves on the head with a board reading 'Falchion1984 does not own Fire Emblem, Monty Python and the Holy Grail nor Tomas Waller's Jazz music'* Pie Iesu domine,... *Bonk themselves on the head with a board reading 'Falchion1984 does not own Fire Emblem, Monty Python and the Holy Grail nor Tomas Waller's Jazz music'* ...dona eis requiem. *Bonk themselves on the head with a board reading 'Falchion1984 does not own Fire Emblem, Monty Python and the Holy Grail nor Tomas Waller's Jazz music'*

Falchion1984: *Clearly frustrated* Well, at least they're doing something useful now. Well, read and enjoy.

(Elincia)

"That…," Elincia gasped breathlessly. "That was…that was rather fun, actually."

Elincia had to admit, the Demosthene was far more intense than any dance she'd attempted. The exertion of following some of Ike's moves had left her flushed, gasping and a touch dizzy. Her legs and feet did not appreciate the abuse she'd subjected them to and she had a feeling that her seamstress would find some damage to her gown the following day. Her attire had been woefully mismatched to the dance, whenever she tried to part her knees she found that her gown constrained her legs and the glorified torture device known as the corset was not made to accommodate the sinuous motions of the back and torso that the Demosthene called for.

Still, it felt good.

In fact, she was rather eager for the occasion to dance like this again.

Right now, however, she focused on catching her breath as she leaned against Ike.

"Yeah," Ike agreed, shaking her back to attention. "It is tough to learn though."

Elincia had to agree. During the dance, for a while, her efforts at following Ike's moves left her feeling intolerably foolish. She tried to picture what Ike's lessons had looked like, wondering if he'd had any awkward moments or embarrassments during his tutelage. The image of Ike losing his balance during one of those spins, as more than a few of the Beroc dancers had, or of him having a bad landing from one of those jumps, another common occurrence that evening, caused a snicker to escape her lips.

"What's so funny?" Ike asked.

Elincia was somewhat surprised when the flush of embarrassment she'd expected that question to draw forth didn't materialize. In fact, it felt good to be talking about something that wasn't related to the War or politics or the Reconstruction. Giggling slightly, she cocked her head in the direction of the other Beorc dancers. More than a few of whom were picking themselves up off the ground and most were too dizzy to walk unassisted.

"I was wondering," she began, still sounding somewhat breathless, "if you had the same…difficulties we did when you learned that dance."

The corners of Ike's mouth drew upward and he regarded her with a twinkle of gentle amusement in his eye.

"Well," he began, the mischief in his tone matching hers, "I did take the precaution of dressing for the occasion."

This time, the embarrassed flush did materialize. Elincia looked down at her gown which, while not outwardly damaged, was shockingly wrinkled and wrapped crookedly about her lithe form from her awkward twisting. The gown was still pulled tight about her torso so that, to her surprise and embarrassment, her bosom was more defined than Court Etiquette would've permitted. Her hair had also become disheveled and beads of perspiration trickled down her brow.

Ike, though lightly flushed and gasping slightly, looked quite at ease and even a touch smug.

"Touché," Elincia conceded with another laugh.

She felt him release her hand and she became aware that his arm was now around her shoulder, holding her gently. Suppressing a contented murmur, she rested her head against his shoulder and allowed her eyelids to slowly descend.

'When did he get so tall?' she wondered idly.

Ike's stature, both in reputation and in body, had grown much since they'd first met. Back then, Elincia remembered that, by standing on her toes, she could make herself a respectable fraction of an inch taller than him. Now, he was tall enough that her head could be securely tucked under his chin which he demonstrated as he cradled her form against his own.

Reveling in his warmth, enjoying the feel of his strong form against hers, she discovered a feeling of repose for which she could find no parallel in her memory. She found herself wondering if this night was some sort of a dream.

If it was, it was one she'd enjoy. And, some well hidden vein of desire urged her to, be this dream or reality, make sure that it didn't end.

It almost made her change her mind about finding out why he had stayed in Melior, as warmth, dependence, admiration and affection mingled with an urge not to ruin what might be her last fond memory with him. But, she put the notion out of her mind.

Even if Ike was ultimately going to leave, and she wouldn't stop him if he did, she'd always have this moment to hold on to.

"Hey, Ike!" a familiar voice rang out, snapping her to wakefulness.

Her eyes shooting open, she turned in the direction of the noise and revealed was Ranulf bounding over to them. The Cat Laguz more-or-less skidded to a halt and made a grossly exaggerated bow, which likely served no purpose beyond irritating Ike. Once again, Elincia found herself surprised and yet appreciative of Ranulf's easy nature and good humor. As always, he looked chipper, mischievous and eager for a laugh.

Given how the first experiment with exporting Laguz dance had gone, laughs would not be in short supply this evening.

"Hey Ranulf," Ike greeted. "How'd the game go?"

"The Doraven game?" Ranulf asked, his tone changing to one of comically exaggerated dread. "Soren won. Can you believe it? It scared the living daylights out of me; he must've had inside help. It could be a conspiracy to discredit me before my fellow Laguz. I've been thinking this over and I already have a list eighty three suspects."

Ike greeted this melodrama with a chuckle while Elincia rolled her eyes. That was Ranulf for you, always cracking jokes and making jibes. Whether it was sneaking about Port Toha in disguise or racing across enemy territory to rendezvous with the Army at Riven Bridge or storming Fort Pinell and Nados Castle, Ranulf regarded each and all as if they were no more dangerous that a morning jaunt and far less hazardous than playing a strategy game with Soren.

"Oh, Soren's not so bad," Ike began, still laughing slightly. "He…"

The rest of his reply was lost when Ranulf interrupted him.

"He just seems like it?" Ranulf cut in.

"I heard that!" Soren shouted from a distance.

As Ranulf whirled to retort, Elincia could hear Ike growl under his breath in irritation. Not that he could be blamed, Soren's sardonic nature and Ranulf's legendary sarcasm could try anyone's patience. Ranulf's easy demeanor and his penchant for jibes and barbs, which he handily demonstrated as he continued to trade verbal blows with Soren, often made him appear desirous or overconfident. At the opposite end of the spectrum was Soren, ever cynical and pragmatic to the point where one might think it cruelty. Still, Soren was a valuable ally and, despite their occasional clashes, Ike regarded him as his closest friend.

Elincia had been perplexed by that, since Ike's sense of justice and sentimentality seemed the utter opposite to everything Soren said and did. Perhaps, Elincia realized, this was because Soren had made himself into something of a mentor for Ike, coaching him in tactics and management of the Company's manpower and resources as well as acting as an occasional check on Ike's impetuousness.

It was often said that the best mentors see the faults of their student's more clearly than the student would like, and Soren had done that often and sharply. And, with everybody.

Still, both had their hearts in the right place, even if their increasingly rancorous argument could cause one to suspect otherwise. After shouting something to the effect of 'I'll get you next time' to Soren, Ranulf turned back to face the pair.

"You two looked pretty good out there," Ranulf commented, his mismatched eyes glinting with humor. "I trust you enjoyed your date?"

Elincia's blood, still pumping fast and hard from the dance, seemed to suddenly migrate to her face. She brought up one hand, pretending to be coughing, in order to conceal her blush. Ike, by contrast, replied to this barb with only a soft chuckle and a smile.

"Yeah," Ike replied, seeming strangely unbothered by Ranulf's barb. "I guess those lessons paid off after all."

"Ranulf was your teacher?" Elincia inquired, eager to change the subject.

She tried to paint a mental picture of what that looked like, of Ranulf coaching Ike through bounding side to side and contorting like a snake under the charmer's flute, and the image caused her cheeks to bulge with restrained laughter.

By the time she managed to swallow her giggles, the image of Ike's assured mishaps (quite possibly testing even Ranulf's easy demeanor) was permanently seared into her imagination.

"Yeah," Ike replied, with a careless shrug. "I didn't have much choice really."

"Oh!" Ranulf burst out in mock indignation, "the ingrate! I clear my schedule left and right for these lessons and that's all I get?! No good deed ever goes unpunished!"

This time, Elincia couldn't hold it. Laughter, loud and genuine, erupted from her lips with such force that it left her feeling light headed and caused the flush in her cheeks to reassert itself.

"Seriously though," Ike continued, still chuckling. "I couldn't ask Leanne, she was off at Serenes with Reyson. And Naesala, interestingly enough. I tried to ask Lethe, but she…"

Again, Ranulf cut him off. The customary mischief in his gaze now elevating towards wickedness.

"Would that have anything to do with why Lethe had blood on her claws last week?" Ranulf asked, chuckles punctuating his words.

Ike, embarrassed red painting his countenance, rubbed at a number of scars on his cheek that Elincia hadn't noticed before. There were four parallel cuts traversing the distance from just above his lip to mere centimeters from his left eye. They looked recent. And deep. And rather painful.

"Yeah," Ike admitted, sounding unnaturally sheepish. "She was…most emphatic in her refusal."

Ranulf, his chuckling now elevating to raucous guffaws, patted Ike on the shoulder.

"Didn't she do the same thing when you mentioned that you saw her and Jill shaking hands?" Ranulf asked, this time his guffawing nearly sending him over backwards.

"I was," Ike began, his tone betraying what sounded like the barest hint of irritation, "trying to say how impressed I was that she'd become friends with Jill. She…didn't appreciate it."

Try as she might, Elincia couldn't suppress an illicit giggle at the blush that had been creeping across Ike's face as he explained this. Though she admired Ike's altruism, loyalty and his desire to understand both the Laguz and his fellow Beorc without reservation, it was astonishing how these well intended efforts backfired embarrassingly on him.

During some of their talks in the War, when a respite from both the terrible combat and the work of keeping an Army running smoothly materialized, Ike had told her several amusing stories about his talks with the Laguz of the Army.

Elincia remembered, in particular, Ike seeming quite perplexed at the realization that Hawk Laguz didn't hatch from eggs.

That musing brought another pang of regret, as she recalled that Ike would surely leave sooner or later and such simple pleasures would become a thing of the past. Shaking off those musings, and eager to change the subject, she interjected.

"One other thing Ranulf," she cut in. "Please pass my compliments to King Caineghis for arranging for the Laguz musicians to play here tonight. And, my thanks for your having shared the Demosthene with us."

For a long moment, Ranulf didn't speak. He simply raised an eyebrow, obviously intrigued by her words.

"You really enjoyed it, didn't you?" Ranulf asked, a wide grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, yes," Elincia replied, feelingly. "It is different than the dances I've done in the past, but it's…what's the word I'm searching for? Freer, I suppose. And, lively and exhilarating. And, it fits the occasion quite well. A Dance of Rebirth is perfect for celebrating the new life of this realm as well as its freedom."

Ranulf seemed, almost, impressed. He feigned the act of wiping away an imaginary, sentimental tear which prompted Ike to roll his eyes. But, Elincia was perplexed when he shook his head and that familiar chuckle of his was heard once again.

"That's all very pretty," Ranulf replied, his grin widening. "But, the Demosthene isn't about Rebirth. Not in that way, at least."

She felt her elation sinking, becoming puzzlement tinged with apprehension. Ike too looked surprised by this, his head cocked inquisitively to one side and his eyes narrowed questioningly. Ranulf, still smirking, leaned towards them, a conspiratorial gleam in his eye.

"You see," Ranulf continued, seemingly forcing himself to keep his words from turning into laughter yet again, "amongst the Laguz, the Demosthene is a mating dance."

Years of training in Court Etiquette prevented Elincia's jaw from plummeting earthwards. Barely. Still, the blood migrating to her face from Ranulf's earlier barbs seemed to gain in speed until her whole face felt painfully hot. Ike's mouth was parted, his jaw edging downward in a look of shock that seemed alien on his normally stoic features. When he spoke, he sounded even more embarrassed than Elincia felt.

In fact, he sounded genuinely aggravated.

"Couldn't you have mentioned this before we did it back in Gallia?" Ike demanded, a strange edge in his voice.

Elincia wasn't sure what astonished her more, Ranulf's unexpected declaration or Ike's reaction. Granted, Elincia's whole being blazed with mortification at this realization, but Ike's reaction had startled her. His face had darkened, his eyes narrowed, his voice was deeper with a harsh edge and his jaw was clenched.

It looked familiar, too familiar, and not in a good way.

Ike had worn a similar expression when he learned that he had to become a Lord to command the Crimean Liberation Army.

The expression was not directed at her, and yet Elincia felt every bit as chilled now as she had then. Ike, more often than not, wore a stoic exterior, his face a mask of calm belied by grim contemplation. The rare occasions when he became truly angry, genuinely enraged, it seemed alien and yet, strangely, seemed to belong there as well.

Ike was a man of strong sentiments and emotions, another aspect of him that cut both ways at once, which gave him a great capacity for both compassion and for rage. Ike's reaction to being ordered to receive the title of Lord, the sole occasion that Elincia had clearly seen him angry, had scared her. If Ranulf was struck with any similar distress, however, it was invisible. In fact, his amusement seemed to grow.

"And miss the look on your face?" Ranulf replied. "Not a chance. Besides, I know I'm irresistible."

As quickly as that grim anger had appeared on Ike's face, it dissolved at Ranulf's unexpected barb. He recoiled, bewilderment overtaking his features, and he spent several seconds uttering what sounded like long strings of consonants. At any other time, Elincia would've found the contrast between Ike's usual stoicism and his sudden incoherence to be amusing. But, she couldn't bring herself to laugh.

Seeing that familiar mask of anger overtake Ike's face, even briefly, had dredged up some bad memories.

Before he could recover his customary calm, Ranulf inexplicably brought up one hand to ruffle Ike's hair.

"Don't worry," he quipped. "You're a handsome boy and a sweet fellow but you're not my type. Now, if you'll excuse me, I should check on our…casualties from the dance. See ya!"

Without giving Ike a chance at the last word, not that Ike had recovered his coherence enough to take it, Ranulf strode back towards the Festival, bounding forth and side to side in a facsimile of the Demonsthene until he was out of sight. When Ike finally found his voice, it came out a bit shaky and he sounded somewhat sheepish.

"There's, uh," he stuttered, "no need to, ah, mention this to, um, Mist or, ah, anyone else. Is…there?"

Looking at Ike's face, his features colored with embarrassment, Elincia found a strange, accidental echo of memory. Ike had, for a moment, worn a similar expression when he'd agreed to be dubbed a Lord, just after he'd retracted his refusal. However, he was far from incoherent then, his voice coming out flat, firm and with grim resignation and the barest hint of smothered anger. Before Elincia could discern what this meant, another familiar voice rang out.

"Too late," the voice snickered.

The pair turned to see Mist bounding up to them. The girl, young woman Elincia corrected herself, was flushed and a sheen of perspiration glistened on her exposed skin but she otherwise seemed as energetic as ever. Mist flashed a wicked grin and Elincia could clearly hear Ike's aggravated growl at the words that were certain to come.

"Shinon has been giving you a hard time about being a Laguz-lover," Mist pointed out, unable to keep a straight face. "Wonder what he'd make of this."

That familiar darkening of Ike's eyes became visible again and, fearful of what Mist might be provoking, Elincia desperately interjected.

"Depends," she began, "what would Shinon say about you doing a mating dance with his pupil?"

Mist's wicked grin abruptly turned upside down and her stuttering reply sounded much like the incoherent strings of nonsensical syllables that Ike had uttered earlier.

Perhaps this ran in the family.

"That's a good point," Ike seconded, his anger suddenly fading. "I mean, Rolf is a good man but I hadn't counted on him becoming a brother-in-law."

Mist screeched and lunged at Ike, only to be cut off when Ike's hands shot out and took her by the waist. Ike, chuckling, cast Mist airwards and caught her again while Mist screamed out some exaggerated claim about getting airsick.

Elincia watched the two siblings' game and found herself remembering a childhood game she'd played back at the Royal Villa with Geoffrey and Lucia. A nine year old Geoffrey, who'd foreseen his becoming a Crimean Knight, had taken to wrestling with any boy he could find to strengthen his arms and his grip. The one time he'd tried to do the same with Lucia had garnered the three of them a healthy respect for Lucia's agility. Geoffrey had pursued her for at least twenty minutes and left with nothing to show for it, save a reprimand for knocking over and breaking several pieces of crockery during the chase.

That musing also brought her attention to Mist herself, who was being hurtled a seeming three meters into the air. Mist and Elincia had readily connected during the War, practically from the moment they'd met, and Elincia regarded her with the same affection she had for Lucia. Like her brother, Mist had seemed to have had a growth spurt since the Liberation of Melior, though it was difficult to be sure since Ike's torso was now blocking her view as a now landed Mist held him in a choke hold.

One thing that struck Elincia about Mist, besides the wonderment of how she'd turned the tables on her elder sibling, was her unquenchable spirit. Elincia still remembered, bitterly, the shock and the horror and the sadness that had engulfed Mist's face when she learned the truth of how her mother had died and the terrible secret her father had long borne in grim solitude and unceasing vigilance. For Mist, normally rich spirited and oft cheerful, sadness seemed alien on her features. In contrast, when Mist returned Lehran's Medallion to Reyson and Leanne she seemed at peace, as if a weight upon her heart had inexplicably vanished.

However, Mist didn't look particularly peaceful as she continued to strangle Ike and demand that he say 'Uncle.'

"What a terrible adversary!" the voice of Ranulf rang out again.

The Cat Laguz in question had sauntered back to the little group while the siblings' rough housing had monopolized their attention, and he doubtless found great amusement at the image of the deadliest warrior in all of Tellius being at the mercy of his little sister. Ike regarded Ranulf with what might've been an attempt at comically exaggerated desperation.

"Hey, help me out here!" he implored.

Ranulf brought up one hand and cupped his chin in a farce of contemplation.

"Oh, I don't know," he replied. "It might be dangerous."

Ike was not convinced.

"What, Cat Laguz don't have nine lives?" Ike asked with a snicker.

Ranulf's reply carried a note of indignation that sounded almost real.

"I resent your racial stereotyping!" he snarled, before the inevitable smirk appeared. "Besides, you cost me at least three of my lives when you sat on me during your lessons."

Ike flushed a deep red, partly from embarrassment and partly from Mist's grip on his neck.

"I didn't sit on you, I tripped!" Ike answered, sounding somewhere between amused and defensive.

The foursome shared a good laugh at that anecdote and Mist, tired from dancing and roughhousing with her brother and breathless from the prolonged hilarity, slid to the ground gasping for air. Ike ruffled her hair affectionately, prompting Mist to swipe at the offending hand.

Once again, Elincia felt the temptation to let the issue of Ike's lingering in Melior keep for another day. But, she forced the notion out of her mind. While seeing Ike and Mist, finally, unburdened either by the War or the tragedy of their parents had gladdened Elincia's heart, it also reminded her of just how much she needed to relinquish Ike.

For Mist's sake, as much as for Ike's or her own.

"Would you two mind if Ike and I spoke privately?" Elincia asked.

Ranulf and Mist turned to each other and exchanged sly grins that seemed to hint at some shared secret. Before Elincia could decipher it, though she doubted that she could've, the two turned back to face her and Ike.

"Sure," Mist replied, smiling brightly and enveloping Ike in a tight hug.

It might've been Elincia's imagination but she could've sworn she heard Mist whisper 'good luck' to her brother. Ranulf, a brief chuckle escaping his lips, had one more barb for the pair.

"Now, behave you two," Ranulf quipped with a wink.

Ike colored again, but Ranulf turned away before further words were exchanged. He moved alongside Mist and gripped her shoulder with one hand.

"So," Ranulf began casually, "do you want to tell Rolf that he's your husband now or should I?"

Mist's response was to drive her heel against Ranulf's foot with surprising strength. Ranulf, letting out a credible impression of a pained yelp, clutched at the 'injured' extremity while bouncing on one foot. Ike watched as Ranulf continued to hop up and down and twist in the air while uttering monosyllabic explications of pain while Mist angrily stomped off into the distance. Ranulf eventually ceased his bouncing and, pretending to be hobbling, followed in her wake. Ike shook his head in bewilderment.

"I swear," Ike muttered, "his mouth is going to get him into trouble one of these days."

"So says the man who insulted the Apostle in her own Throne Room," Elincia retorted unthinkingly.

The instant the words left her lips she, once again, clapped a hand over her mouth in shock at herself.

For an instant, she feared that Ike would take umbrage to being reminded of that moment, but he didn't appear to be angered. In fact, to Elincia's surprise and relief, he seemed amused.

"Touché," Ike conceded with laugh. "It took me a while to live that down."

Elincia couldn't help but wonder if her words following the altercation had contributed to that, it certainly would've explained why he'd avoided her for much of their stay in Begnion.

"Still," Ike began, another laugh accompanying his words, "I say Ranulf would've said something just as bad in my place."

Elincia tried to picture Ranulf in the Apostle's Throne Room, and his reaction at learning that the Begnion Empire was ruled by a thirteen year old girl. It made for an interesting picture.

"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?" Ike asked.

Elincia took a deep breath, seeking the courage she needed to say what had to be said. Her gaze shifted, almost ashamedly, away from his face and in the direction of the Festival. Whether it was because her courage was too little, too fragile or because she just couldn't bear to see how Ike would react to her words, she did not know.

And, to be honest, she didn't particularly want to think about it.

"Ike…," she began, the words yet to come stabbing at her heart. "Why are you still here?"

For a stretching moment, neither of them spoke. Ike regarded her with a look of puzzlement before a mischievous grin dawned on his features.

"Well," Ike began, "for one thing, I'm your escort. I'm not supposed to leave until after I get you back home."

Elincia's gaze snapped towards Ike, her fists clenching until her fingernails threatened to draw blood.

"Don't joke with me Ike," she retorted, the firmness in her voice surprising even her. "I just…I just want to know…"

In the midst of her words, that strange weariness she'd felt following the speech returned with a vengeance and she suddenly found herself swaying. Once again, Ike's hand found her shoulder and steadied her. Her gaze met his, the concern in those azure eyes now quite familiar to her. Their proximity, and the small distance between their lips, was also familiar.

Something like this had happened some two years ago, at Nados Castle. With difficulty, she forced away the memory. She considered extricating herself from his grip as well, but didn't trust her legs to bear her weight.

"Ike," Elincia began again, "why haven't you left Melior?"

Talking this directly, talking like Ike she observed distantly, seemed strange to her. The words she'd spoken seemed to lodge themselves in her throat, burned her mouth and felt awkward on her tongue. These sensations, however, simply could not compare to that of the words stabbing at her heart as she awaited Ike's reply.

Ike, blinking, gazed at her as if uncertain that he'd heard right.

"What?" he replied, his puzzlement ill concealed.

It was a small word, a simple word, but his expression told volumes more. He looked as if he'd just been slapped. His eyes were wide and unblinking, his jaw was slack and his brow was furrowed in confusion. Statement, and a hint of injury, were evident in his expression.

"Ike," Elincia repeated, more carefully this time. "You know how much I appreciate everything you've done, for Crimea and for me, and that so little of it was of your choosing. And, I know how much it cost you. You have my eternal gratitude, though I know it cannot bring back your father nor can it undo the hardships that you've suffered."

Elincia unconsciously drew in a breath of air and held it, anticipation clashing with dread at Ike's reply. She felt certain, painfully so, that he'd choose this moment to finally ask to be released from her service and disappear from her life.

She expected that, but it did not happen. Ike's face swept itself clean of shock and his expression composed itself into one of simple curiosity tinged with concern.

"What brought this on?" he asked, his tone betraying some lingering puzzlement. "For starters, the only thing I gave you was a few headaches from how stupidly I acted."

Elincia's disagreement was instant.

"Nothing you did was wrong," she told him, that strange firmness again in her voice. "Protecting Ranulf at Toha, allying with the Laguz Emancipation Army, agreeing to help the Apostle expose Duke Tanas, rescuing Reyson and Leanne, sheltering the Talregans, sparing the Priests at Palmeni Temple, rescuing the soldiers at Delbray, helping Nasir to save Ena and forgiving them. Perhaps those weren't the logical courses of action but they were right. I believe Master Greil would've done the same in your place, you spoke many times about how he taught you to treat others in good faith."

A look of nostalgia flashed across Ike's face at the mention of his father and Elincia suddenly found herself wondering if she'd struck a nerve. She knew, all too well, that the old wounds left by a parent's death reopened all too easily.

"That's kind of you to say," Ike replied, prompting a discreet sigh of relief from Elincia. "But, I'll never be the man that my father was."

Elincia disagreed. Strongly. Though she had known Greil for mere days, she learned much about him from Ike's stories during those rambling conversations they'd had aboard Nasir's ship. Ike, rather like herself, knew very little about his parents, since his mother had died when he was small and his father was secretive even with his own children, but she knew that Ike worshipped his father.

But, true to his nature, Ike placed himself in his father's shadow. While Elincia and most of the Greil Mercenaries (the exception being Shinon, naturally) regarded Ike's defeating the Black Knight as Ike having finally become his father's equal in skill and courage, Ike considered it merely a statement of his father's greatness rather than his own.

"Even if that's true," Elincia spoke up, "I know he'd be very proud of you."

Ike replied with a smile, a skeptical smile but a smile nonetheless. While Elincia would've gladly told Ike why she believed so, even if it was doubtful that Ike would be convinced, she knew that she had to say what needed to be said before her tenuous resolve deserted her.

As if in response to her thoughts, the frost of dread began to spread across her mind again and threatened to freeze away her brittle courage.

"Ike," she began once again, "you've done so much for me, more than I could've dreamed, and for this country as well. And, more besides that, my father's vision is coming to life because of you."

Before, Ike merely looked puzzled. Now, he looked genuinely astonished.

"What?" Ike blurted out, his jaw dropping. "Hold on a minute, you did more than me. You were the one that negotiated with Caineghis and the Apostle to bring them over to our side and you've been working so hard to get the Council to pass your reforms. Even I can tell that you've been working yourself too hard."

"None of that would've happened without you," Elincia countered. "These are difficult times for Crimea; the War and the Reconstruction have been hard on all of us, but the people have come to believe in my father's dream. And, not just in Crimea but in Gallia, Phoenicis and Begnion too. And, it's mostly because they believe in you."

Again, bewilderment overtook Ike's features and he had to shake himself into some semblance of calm before he replied.

"You're wrong," he told her flatly. "Don't you remember what Lucia told us when we crossed Riven Bridge? 'The secret princess of Crimea is fighting to save us all.' It was the rumors about you that gave the people hope that the War was ending."

Now, it was Elincia's turn to look bewildered. Granted, she had heard what Lucia had said, even though she'd been somewhat distracted by the astonishing realization that the people had acknowledged her existence after all her years of living in secrecy, but she knew that the credit was not hers. And, she was intent on making this clear.

"Even so," Elincia replied, "you led the War effort. The troops couldn't fight without strong leadership, you gave them that. You held the Army together, you led them in battle and they admire your leadership and courage."

"Troops can't fight without inspiration either," Ike countered. "You gave them that. And, you were the one who was tending the wounded and, like I said, you're the one who won over our allies. I mean, can you picture me as a diplomat?"

Elincia, distantly realizing that the fatigue weighing down on her had somehow vanished and was replaced by a dull headache, shook her head empathically. She'd heard, from time to time, that Ike's indelible humility could sometimes be frustrating.

She didn't believe it. Until now.

"I didn't win anybody over," Elincia shot back. "The Apostle wouldn't have sided with us if you hadn't exposed Duke Tanas. And, Tibarn likely would never have allied with us if you hadn't rescued Reyson and Leanne. That whole time I was trying to curry favor with the Apostle, and furthermore King Caineghis sided with me for my father and uncle's sake rather than my own. I was not the one who had to give orders that might cost a loved one's life nor was I the one who had to ponder logistics and troop movements and Goddess knows what else. I…I did so little compared to the rest of you."

"So did I," Ike replied, his tone grim and flat.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. During the tense silence, Elincia found herself idly wondering at Ike's words. And, at her own. She had long since known that Ike was a humble man, but this had astonished her. It was true that she had tended the wounded, she still remembered constantly having to force away her fear of the sight of blood and shedding bitter tears when one of her patients died under her care, and she remembered the meetings she'd had with Caineghis and Sanaki. But, her contributions always seemed so small compared with everyone else's.

She found, in that train of thought, a tinge of realization. Was that where Ike's humility came from? Because his eyes were always on the whole of the War effort, and on the great myriad of Beorc and Laguz soldiers fighting in the conflict, rather than his own place in it? Because he was always comparing his own contributions to the War effort to that of the others combined and always found the former vastly outweighed by the latter? Apparently, as Lucia had observed that morning, humility had its drawbacks.

Ike broke her train of thought with a soft, nervous chuckle.

"We could probably go on like this all night," he joked, his expression again becoming one of concern. "Elincia, please tell me what's really bothering you."

Still trying to stave of the frost and the now re-gathering sense of fatigue in her mind, Elincia tried to give voice to two years of constant confusion and worry.

"Ike," Elincia began again, this time her voice coming out firm and sure, "I truly cannot thank you enough for everything you've done. But, the War is over. You don't owe my anything, and I know that you have your own affairs to attend to. Your Mercenary Company needs their Commander and Mist needs her brother, and I know that you hated being made a Lord against your will. You gave me back my country; let me give you back your freedom."

Ike's gaze was now stern

"Elincia," he began, his tone almost scolding, "you can't give someone a country or freedom, it has to be earned just like anything else worth striving for. You should know that better than me. Your father and uncle earned Caineghis' trust by trying to unite the Beorc and the Laguz. Sanaki earned Reyson's forgiveness by taking responsibility for the Serenes Massacre which everybody else wanted to pretend never happened. Jill earned our trust by wanting to learn the truth about the Laguz and fighting alongside us. Nasir earned my trust by helping us during the War and to rescue Leanne. And, you earned my respect a long time ago by working so hard to help us and by not giving up even when things seemed hopeless. That is why I always believed you'd be a great Queen."

Elincia couldn't help a tinge of embarrassment at being lectured like this, but she brought her attention back to what she needed to say.

"Even so," she continued, forcing her voice back to the firm tone she'd used moments before and sweeping her face clean of emotion, "you've done enough and I must learn to stand on my own. Please, go home."

Elincia discreetly drew in a nervous breath. This was it; she had finally said what she had dreaded saying practically since they'd met: she had asked him to leave and she knew that he would. She knew that this was what he wanted, to return to the people he loved and leave behind the big city and the selfish Nobility that he so despised. And, she knew that he wouldn't come back.

It was the right thing to do, the honorable course, and she knew it was the least that she could do for him after all the service and sacrifice he'd done for Crimea and for her. And, she knew there was no better way to show that she loved him than to set him free.

So why did it make her feel so miserable?

"I could do that," Ike admitted.

The words were like a slap to the face, and Elincia's gaze once again wandered away from Ike and towards the ground. The frost in her mind spread and thickened until it became an icy tomb that froze away thought.

"I wanted to do that," Ike continued.

The frost in Elincia's mind became even colder, seeming to take the memory of waltzing with Ike in Serenes Forest and all of her illicit fantasies about Ike staying in her life and turning them into sculptures of melancholy reminiscence that she knew would never truly melt. They would linger on in her mind as eternal reminders of both the terrible selfishness that nearly made her ask him to stay against his will, or to follow him when he left, and so many wonderful might-have-beens that could have occurred if she'd heeded that call.

The frost numbed her thoughts so much that she overlooked the oddity that Ike had said 'wanted' rather than 'want.'

"But I'm not going to," Ike finished.

(End)

Ranulf: I'm getting sick of this co-host job! Why'd you have all those dogs chasing me? How did Soren beat me in Doraven?! Why did Ike sit on me while I was teaching him the Demosthene, and how'd he cost me three lives?! What's the big idea calling my Patsy?! I mean, couldn't I have been Sir Galahad in the Castle Anthrax with all those pretty women between sixteen and nineteen and a half?

Muarim: *Impersonating Sir Lancelot and dragging Ranulf away* No, it's too perilous.

Falchion1984: *Takes an Advil* Well, now that that's over, back to the story. Anyhow, we've come to the pivotal moment here. I hope that the dialogue remains satisfactorily in character and that Ike's dumb answer was as amusing as I hope. Another goal I have in this story is to, more-or-less mature the characters by making Ike seem set in his conviction to higher purposes and Elincia a little tougher, as well as making both more emotionally realistic. Another thing I was hoping was to show their humility as a shared trait and, given the length and seeming absurdity of their little mutual admiration lecture, I was hoping to get the audience thinking something like 'Yeesh, these two deserve each other' as well as to build suspense for Ike coming clean. I hope you'll tell me how I did in your reviews and that the little cliffhanger there entices you to read more.


	5. Chapter 5

Falchion1984: And now the moment you've all been waiting for: Ike is going to SPILL HIS GUTS!

Mist: Cue the eyerolls!

Falchion1984: Oh, shut up! Anyhow, this had to be the single most frustrating thing I've yet written. It took me weeks and weeks to get it right, and that was on top of all the delays of school and commuting and studying and what all. Well, here it is and I hope you guys like it. Ranulf, disclaimer if you please.

Ranulf: *Under his breath* Who the heck says 'if you please' these days? *Ahem* Falchion1984 does not own Fire Emblem, and he doesn't own the song 'I've Got You Under My Skin.'

(Ike)

Ike watched as Elincia's head snapped back in his direction so fast that it made his neck hurt just watching, the mask of melancholy stoicism she'd worn moments ago vanishing in an instant and replaced by a very nearly comical look of shock. Ordinarily, he might've found the contrast between her customary poise and her sudden awkwardness amusing, but he wasn't in a laughing mood. This, he realized, was the true reason that Elincia had seemed so weary and troubled and why she'd been behaving oddly all evening.

He was the cause.

It surprised him, but he realized that it shouldn't have. He had spent the last two years helping the Greil Mercenaries, aiding them in raids against Ashnard loyalists and escorting Supply Convoys, while working to ensure that they'd be well taken care of after he finally relinquished his command. There was, as he'd told Sephiran, a lot to be done. And, each of those tasks had proven substantial in and of itself. The remnants of Ashanrd's Army, scattered to the winds after the death of their Monarch, remained dangerous and determined to wreak vengeance on victorious Crimea in any way they could. Though they were no match for the Greil Mercenaries in a straight up fight, and battle and hunger thinned their ranks, it also made these scattered bands smaller, faster and ever more elusive often causing a hunt of mere days to turn into a lethal game of Cat and Mouse spanning weeks.

Even so, a nostalgic Ike could not help but relish the chance to lead the Greil Mercenaries again for old time's sake.

And, he was especially worried about Mist. Though Mist loved Elincia like a sister, and was thrilled at the notion of Ike and Elincia falling in love, Ike knew it would be hard for her to accept that he was leaving her when their father's death was still fresh in both their memories. He wasn't leaving her permanently, he'd make sure of that, but he didn't want to walk out of her life while he could still help her to reconcile herself with the tragedy of their parents. Thus he would detour to Mist's side, sometimes with the pretense of needing healing after a rough day or of doing some taste testing while she was at work in the kitchen, while he watched for any sign of lingering depression or sudden shifts in her mood or behavior. He would, when these games tired him and he elected for a more direct approach, encourage her to talk with him about it to exorcise lingering spirits and, on rare occasion, offer her a shoulder to cry on.

She had, naturally, sworn him to secrecy after these occurrences and made some rather fanciful claims about what would happen if he went back on his word.

And, his time in Melior was taken up with helping in the Reconstruction. Shoveling out cisterns and erecting houses was hardly something one did for fun, but his conscience would not permit him to do otherwise when faced with Melior residents huddled about the rubble of their former home struggling to stay warm as the chill of night approached.

One look at such a gathering caused his heart to melt in his chest and commanded him to do something about it. And, he always did.

But, while we paused to aid his family and strangers in need, time kept marching on. The long hunts for Ashnard Loyalists, the weary days of working in the Reconstruction and his delicate, and sometimes not, efforts with Mist dragged on. Before he knew it, two years had gone by without him telling the woman he loved how much she meant to him.

So, when he should've been declaring his love for the woman he wished to marry, when he should've been helping her to gather her courage as he had in the past, when he should've been the shoulder for her to cry on, when he should've been helping her, he had instead been helping everybody else. Including himself, he was forced to admit, to set his conscience at ease before he moved on.

For the second time, he'd hurt her deeply without even realizing it until it was too late.

'Blast,' he inwardly snarled. 'I am an idiot.'

This realization hit him like a blast of icy air such as even the snowfields of Daein rarely boasted and on its heels was a wave of guilt that hit him like a fist. He felt it, as though it had punched him in the chest and then dug into his flesh to seize his heart in a frigid grip that threatened to choke away his courage.

The temptation to walk away before he caused her further pain was whispered into his ear by some harsh inner voice and, in truth, Ike never knew how he resisted. Some reserve of willpower that had laid undiscovered bubbled to life and reminded him that he'd made no shortage of mistakes in his life, many of which he couldn't take back, but that he'd managed to make up for them more often than not. He had remedied his mistakes before, and he could do so again.

Though Elincia would likely deny it, he owed her that much.

"I should've explained this much sooner," Ike admitted, unable to keep a tinge of shame out of his voice. "I'm so sorry for hurting you."

Elincia seemed to wake herself from her confused trance and shook her head emphatically.

"No, no," she hurriedly interjected. "I'm not angry; I'm just…a little confused. I thought you wanted to leave. I know that you disliked being Crimea's General and you were put there by matters of time and circumstance. You said so yourself."

Ike felt that familiar flush of embarrassment bring an unwelcome warmth to his face at the mention of this and the clenching grip on his heart tightened. He had, unwittingly, chivvied himself into another hole.

"I said that," he admitted, averting his eyes. "But, I lied."

Though Ike could not bring himself to look, he was positive that Elincia regarded him with utter astonishment. And, he feared, a hint of disappointment.

"Well," he continued, "lying to myself at least."

Gradually, hesitantly, he turned his gaze back towards Elincia. Her expression was, to his surprise, not one of disappointment or of puzzlement but of concern and curiosity.

"It's true that I didn't want to be a Lord," Ike began, "but that was the problem. I hated the Nobles, especially the ones in Begnion, how they were so self-centered and treacherous and I wanted so badly to avoid being like them. When the Apostle told me that I'd have to be made a Lord to command the Army, I forgot about everything else for a moment….everything. The War, Crimea, my father, the Black Knight, the Mercenaries, you, everything."

Ike, again, felt disgust at himself curdle in his gut. He kept his face swept clean of emotion as he regarded, once again, the fullness of his error with the grim acceptance and concealed shame that had crested on his face and in his heart when he beheld Elincia's stricken expression after his outburst.

"So much was at stake," he began, his inward frustration seeping into his tone, "and all I could think of was myself, just like the Nobles would have. I still can't believe how selfishly I'd acted, and I didn't even admit it to myself."

Elincia's expression turned to one of understanding and what Ike could've sworn was a hint of empathy.

"Ike," she began, delicately, "it was a mistake. I might've done the same thing in your place, and you did set it to rights. Is…is that the reason that you seemed so agitated afterwards?"

Though Elincia didn't say it directly, Ike could sense that she'd been wondering about that for some time. And, that it had not been a pleasant thought for her.

'Wow,' Ike mused disgustedly. 'I'm messing up left and right.'

"Yeah," Ike replied. "Looking back, I guess that I knew what had happened but I just didn't want to face it. I just..."

His words trailed off as he discovered another irony to complement this one.

"I just kept it to myself," he finished.

Just as Greil had kept the secret of Lehran's Medallion to himself, Ike had concealed the shame of his actions from everyone else, even those he would trust with his life without a second's hesitation. Greil had kept his secret, until the Black Knight took his life, even from the Greil Mercenaries who'd have aided him with nary a second thought. Ike regarded the Greil Mercenaries as his family, knew that they would understand and forgive him, and yet he'd told none of them.

Did Greil keep the truth of his wife's death from their children because it would scare and hurt them, because it would make them fear and perhaps hate him? Or, was it because he could never come to grips with knowing that he had killed his own wife, even if he'd had no hope of preventing himself from doing so?

Did Ike conceal the truth of his unthinking act from his friends because he believed it would burden them needlessly or because it might've made them think less of him? Or, could it have been because just facing this secret struck a blow against Ike's perception of himself and threw his flaws into such sharp relief that simply looking verged on unbearable?

Perhaps, in both instances, it was a little of each.

'I guess,' Ike mused, with detached distaste, 'my father and I are more alike than I thought.'

Completing the Trinity of Ironies was the realization that, at any other time and for any other reason, Ike would've welcomed any genuine comparison between him and his father. This, however, was a grand exception.

"I should know better than that," Ike admitted, his voice faint and his tone grim. "It was wrong of me."

There, that was the truth of it: it was wrong of him. Just as it had before, it cut into him like his own blade and yet it somehow made him feel a little better. A little stronger perhaps, as if in discovering this fault he had taken the first, big step to ultimately understanding and overcoming it. He also could not help but feel a sliver of relief at knowing that Elincia didn't begrudge him his error. Ike reflected, distantly, that he shouldn't have been surprised by this and that he should've told her this much sooner.

He still had a suspicion that doing so might've saved her much pain.

"There's nothing to forgive Ike," Elincia spoke up, her tone gentle and delicate. "As I said, it was a simple mistake. I nearly…"

The remainder of Elincia's words died in her throat amidst a sharp intake of breath. Ike noticed, curiosity and concern undoing his stoic mask. Elincia, by contrast, looked as if she'd been caught off balance by her own words.

And, Ike had to admit, he was wondering what she'd nearly done.

Before he could inquire, she spoke again.

"But," Elincia began nervously, "why aren't you going to return to the Mercenaries? I…I thought you wanted to leave Melior and take command of the Company in your father's stead."

"I did," Ike replied. "That was the plan at least. Still, along the way, things changed."

It might've been Ike's imagination but Elincia seemed to tense as he'd said those words.

"What…changed?" Elincia asked, a strange trepidation in her words.

"A lot of things," Ike answered, wondering at Elincia's reaction. "I learned much, not just about fighting but about the Beorc and the Laguz and about myself. I guess it really started when we met, just before Daein attacked the Fort and it kept on going as time went on. I…I really don't have an eloquent way to say this and I've kept you waiting way too long already."

A faint smolder seemed to kindle in his breastbone. It was faint at first, yet it began to grow stronger and hotter until the shame and remorse he'd felt over his inaction seemed to shrivel in the flame. Now, having recaptured his inner balance, at least for the moment, he gave voice to both the answer to why he was staying and what had changed.

"Elincia," he began, "I love you."

Elincia's eyes pulsed wide and her lower jaw crept earthward. Offhand, Ike could not tell if her expression was one of revulsion or of surprise. He reflected, with inward frustration, that it could easily be the former. Silence fell between the two like a hammer, Ike working vainly to dissect the un-responding mask of astonishment that had overtaken Elincia's face.

Ultimately, it was Ike that took the plunge.

"I probably have no right to say that, after what I've done," Ike confessed. "I still remember the scene I made in Begnion, both of them. If Sanaki hadn't needed us to expose the Laguz Slave Trade, she probably would've thrown us out right there."

Once more, the memory stabbed at Ike like the edge of an unseen blade and he felt his heart clench, but he forced himself to keep his gaze fixed upon Elincia. She, in turn, finally composed her face into some semblance of calm attentiveness and took a step closer to him. One of her soft hands rose up and cupped his cheek, an impossible sensation of rightness seeming to ebb from the contact between her delicate skin and his weathered, tanned flesh.

Like a mating of the spectrum, the convergence of two complementary hues, they simply fit together. There was no discernable logic behind it, it was neither voiced nor anticipated, it simply was. And, by virtue of being, it was perfect.

For an eternal instant, they simply gazed into one another's eyes. Elincia's golden eyes, Ike saw, lacked their usual luminescence. Staring back at him were forlorn orbs of melancholy, dulled by fatigue and glassy with tears that threatened to spill forth at the slightest provocation. The fist of guilt clenching his heart worked to reassert itself but found the protective bond Ike had long formed with Elincia opposing it and thus Ike stood his ground.

He brought up his free hand, trailing his fingertips over the smooth ivory flesh of her cheek, stroking it and waiting to catch her tears, willing his sincerity to pass through his flesh and into hers. Her eyes, still glassy with tears, regarded him with that seemingly alien look of melancholy, the sight threatening to give strength to the fist of guilt seeking to clamp down upon his heart. And yet, somewhere in that gaze, was a faint gleam of…what precisely? Anticipation? Eagerness? Or, maybe, that same smolder of hope that yet crested in his being.

Another stretching second of silence passed, this time it was Elincia that broke it.

"Ike," Elincia began, her voice quavering, "don't you remember what the Apostle said? She was impressed by your loyalty. She even told me that she envied me for having someone like you at my side."

'Well,' Ike inwardly mused, not cheered by her well intentioned remark, 'Sanaki always was a strange one.'

Ike's hands, large and calloused but impossibly gentle, cupped Elincia's face and he worked to wipe away the tears which now began to trickle down her cheeks. Her earlier façade of stoic firmness having crumpled, she now looked small, fragile and very young. Slowly, with the same delicacy with which he might've handled a newborn, he brought her into a close, gentle embrace, letting her lean against his larger form and cry into his chest while he gently stroked her face and the silken coils of her hair.

Ike felt tears gathering in his eyes as well, his heart clenched harder and he felt his throat contract as guilt threatened to choke away his voice.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, unable to keep a note of anguish from seeping into his words.

The words were few, simple, but he meant them with every fiber of his being. He felt Elincia shift in his grip, tilting her face upward to gaze at him. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, her face was reddened, her still moist eyes were puffy and swollen and her hair, which had come unbound during their embrace, was in dire need of re-combing. Yet, the expression she fixed upon him bore neither malice nor sadness but only the strange repose that comes after one has permitted their emotions to have free reign so that the storm crested in the heart can expend itself and leave behind calm.

"Ike," she began again, her voice hoarse with emotion, "I already told you, there's nothing to forgive. But, if it means that much to you, then I forgive you. Gladly."

Her words, too, were simple and yet they meant so much to him. As if the fist of guilt that had seized upon his heart had suddenly gone slack, he felt repose settle upon him as well.

"Did…," he heard her murmur hesitantly, her voice still fragile and yet hopeful, "did you mean what you said earlier? That you love me?"

Ike looked into her eyes, and saw the barest hint of the golden luminescence he had seen there in times past, when Geoffrey and his troops had been saved at Delbray, when they'd kissed after the Black Knight's defeat and when she had taken his hand in the Throne Room of Castle Crimea. Seeing it caused a hint of his rakish smile to tug at the corner of his lips.

"Yes, more than anything," he replied, and meant it.

The simple act of, at long last, saying those words caused the flames of determination within his breastbone to intensify, burning so hot and so strong that he felt his chest tighten to hold them in. The flames sprayed embers of passion that sought to use his next words as an avenue of escape from his confining flesh.

"I didn't realize it until the signing of the Treaty of Serenes," Ike continued, the trace of a smile dawning on his features beginning to broaden. "While we were dancing, I thought a lot about the times we had together during the War. When we first met, our talks aboard Nasir's ship, the journey across Daein, Riven Bridge, Delbray, training with you, Fort Pinell, Nados Castle, your Coronation, everything."

A far away expression began creeping across Ike's face at the memory of the waltz. Brief images, memories flickering in and out of focus, drifted across his mind's eye. And, not just of his waltz with Elincia but of Mia ambushing Rhys and his success in disarming her, Leanne waltzing with a displeased looking Naesala to the umbrage of a far more displeased Reyson, Oscar and Kieran engaging in yet another contest of knightly prowess with Tanith and Marcia cheering them on and Gatrie telling, once again, the tale of how he'd confronted Astrid's unwanted betrothed and beaten the living daylights out of him.

He even remembered, with a snicker, how Ranulf and Jill had gotten drunk and had gone into an unstoppable succession of criminally atonal, hiccup punctuated songs until Lethe had hurled the punch bowl at them out of simple irritation.

"Just as the dance ended," he continued, "it just hit me. Looking back, I guess I knew it long before then but I simply hadn't understood."

A laugh, somewhere between amused and embarrassed, parted his lips.

"When you asked why I kissed you," he began, "I said that it just felt like the right thing to do. It took me a while to figure out why, but what else is new?"

For the first time in what seemed like hours, he heard Elincia laugh. The bell clear notes of mirth were like music to his ears, and he soon found himself joining in. For a moment, an all too brief eternity, the guilt and melancholy and worry that had plagued them seemed to grow hazy beyond recall. If Ike hadn't known better, he would've written it off as some sort of bad dream.

However, he did know better. And, for that reason, he silently swore that this was the last time he'd cause her pain.

"At first," Ike went on, "the idea just seemed stupid and, for the longest time, all I could see was how different we are. I mean, I'm a Mercenary and you're a Queen. Aside from my sword, I have little to offer and I was so sure that nobody would accept me here. I was all set to just forget it and go back to the Company."

Here, Ike felt another tinge of realization: if Sephiran hadn't caught up with him, and if the two of them hadn't had their talk after the signing of the Treaty of Serenes, he would have done just that. Why Sephiran had intervened like that, and how he knew about Ike's affections for Elincia in the first place, was an enigma. And yet, despite Sephiran's penchant for having a good laugh at Ike's expense, Ike suddenly became aware of just how great a service the Prime Minister of Begnion had done for him and Ike's umbrage towards Sephiran's ill humor lessened.

Slightly.

"Near the end of the evening," Ike continued, "Sephiran came up to me and we began talking. He told me that you and Sanaki were wondering if I'd stay in Melior. I told him no but then he...Well, he said quite a few things. One thing he said, which surprised me, was that he knew that I had fallen in love with you. I still have no idea how he knew, he never told me. But, he also made me realize a few things."

Ike's gaze shifted slightly in the direction of the Festival, which was still in full swing with the guests dancing to a…interesting sounding joint composition between the Beorc and Laguz Minstrels.

"You remember earlier, when you said that the people had started believing in peace between the Beorc and the Laguz?" Ike began. "I've begun to believe in it too, and I want to make that dream come true. It might've been the incident at Toha or maybe meeting the Herons, but I soon realized that I just couldn't just let things go as they are anymore."

As the words left Ike's lips, his mind began to trace a path through his memories of the changes. And, summoned by these thoughts, images began to dance in his mind's eye. Was it those amiable chats he'd had with Nasir and Ranulf and the other Laguz of the Army that caused this conviction to be born? Perhaps it was learning of the improbable friendship between his father and Caineghis, and the mournful tone with which the King of Lions spoke of his Beorc friend's passing. Maybe it was the rage that spurred Ike to Ranulf's defense when the crazed mob at Toha began to beat him? It might've been the reconciliation between Sanaki and the Herons. Very likely, it was the wonderment of how Reyson and Leanne's singing had caused Serenes Forest to be reborn, the maelstrom of color and light and music transforming the once lifeless wood into the jewel of the continent.

Whether it was one incident that sparked it or if, like his love for Elincia, it simply grew as time went on, Ike did not know. And yet, he could see in each and all the possibility, and the necessity, of a new world.

A better world.

A world that King Ramon had envisioned and, for many years, had worked to create. Though this great work had been nearly destroyed by the Daein Invasion and Ramon's death, his legacy had become the treasure of those who fought for Crimea's freedom and there were hands aplenty to take up the task he'd begun.

"Sephiran believed…," Ike began, pausing as a nervous chuckle escaped his lips. "Sephiran believed that I could change the world. That I could help you to create a real, lasting peace between the Beorc and the Laguz, that I might even be able to set the Nobles straight. At first, it all seemed so overwhelming but, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I could do it. That I wanted to do it, that I could help to create a better world."

"But…," Elincia stuttered. "But… you still haven't explained why you aren't going back to the Mercenaries and Mist. They're your family."

Ike did not respond, not with words at least. Instead, he unclipped his sheathed sword from its customary place on his belt and offered it to her.

As Elincia studied the inscription, the proverb as he'd dubbed it, Ike summoned the memory of reading it for the first time when Sephiran had presented it to him. He still recalled, with the tiniest hint of embarrassment, how he'd nearly broken into happy tears in front of Sephiran.

The Prime Minister of Begnion, assuredly, would never have let him hear the end of it.

Still, he recalled the proverb as Elincia read it.

Though families may ultimately separate, parents pass away and children grow up and leave home, bonds of love and brotherhood are eternal. Good luck Ike and, wherever you may go and whatever you may do, you will always be welcome with us.

Accompanying this inscription were the names 'Mist,' 'Titania,' 'Oscar,' 'Boyd,' 'Rolf,' 'Rhys,' 'Gatrie,' 'Shinon,' 'Mia' and, newly added, 'Ilyana,' 'Zihark' and 'Astrid.'

"You're right," Ike conceded, "they are my family. They loved me enough to let me go."

With shaky hands, Elincia took the sheathed blade from Ike and examined the silvery writing of the proverb as if to ensure that her eyes were not deceiving her.

"Mist wanted it this way," Ike continued, prompting Elincia to meet his gaze once again. "She figured out that I was in love with you long ago, she was thrilled about it. Everyone was."

Again, Ike had to pause as embarrassed red painted his countenance.

"When you came to me this morning." Ike continued, "to ask me to be your escort, I was talking about this with Sephiran. I was terrified that you might've overheard us. Still, I talked it over with the others and I've made sure that they'll be in good hands after I leave. And, I've been talking things over with Mist."

Another image flittered through Ike's mind, this time of his talk with Mist. He saw in his mind's eye her varied, and sometimes testy, denials of any lingering depression and one instance where she'd threatened to turn him into a vegetarian if he didn't stop following her into the kitchen to check up on her. He remembered, as well, how, on rare occasion, her façade would crumble and she'd cry into his chest for what seemed like hours.

And, he especially remembered that afterwards, she'd ask if Ike had finally admitted his affections to Elincia. Upon learning that he hadn't, she would go from relieved with a touch of sadness to indignant with a copious amount of anger.

'By the Goddess' left boob Ike,' she'd railed at him in a previously unheard-of moment of profanity on her part, 'what is taking you so long to tell her you love her?!'

Mutual shock at her profanity turned into a shared laugh at her tantrum but Ike had to admit that she was right.

"I'd been worried about Mist," Ike continued, "about how she was doing after learning how Mom died. She does seem much better and she, all of them, let me go."

A stretching second passed as the two of them regarded each other, silence again falling between them. For a long, long moment, Ike simply stared at Elincia. This time, however, he was not trying to penetrate a mask of forced stoicism or to discern the meaning of some oddity in her words and manner. He was not trying to interpret the workings of her mind or gauging the reaction that his words were eliciting.

He was just looking.

Her face was still moist from the tears that had spilled forth from her eyes earlier and her eyes were red and puffy. Her unbound hair, though disheveled, still retained its natural radiance. Her eyes, however, commanded his attention. The hint of their customary luminescence was still there, perhaps a bit more so than it had been moments before, but he could also perceive a hint of trepidation in those golden orbs which came out in her words.

"Ike," Elincia began, sounding nervous and yet faintly hopeful, "don't do this to us. Not…not if you're going to change your mind."

"I won't," Ike replied, his voice firm and resolute. "And, I hope to prove it."

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly to soothe his wildly thumping heart, Ike knelt on one knee and removed the ring box from his pocket. He noted, with a split second of approval, that it and its precious contents had not been damaged by the incident with the falling pail of mortar that morning. He lifted the lid, offering the ring within to Elincia and bent every fiber of his courage towards the words that he now spoke.

"Elincia," he began, trying to keep his tone calm, "will you marry me?"

(Elincia)

Within Elincia's mind, all was chaos.

Did she just hear what she thought she had? Could Ike have said what she thought he did?

For nearly two years, Elincia had looked upon the puzzle of Ike's lingering in Melior much the same way one might stare vainly through a bank of fog to see what lay within and, in all this time, that fog had been too deep to penetrate. Even though she'd spent so long guessing what could be keeping him here long after his contract and obligation to her had ended, she always assumed that he would ultimately walk out of her life.

And yet, Ike had once again done the, very, last thing she'd expected.

Some part of her mind, a fragment that yet retained reason as the rest fell into utter confusion, informed her, again, that she should be used to this by now.

This evening had begun with Elincia juggling the impossible tasks of having a good time with the man she knew she had to relinquish and allowing the person she most wanted at her side to leave. Puzzlement, dread, contentment and concealed affection were borne as both burdens on her mind and weights upon her heart.

This impossible matrix of contrary thoughts and sentiments, however, was hit by tremors of confusion when Ike declared that he was, in fact, staying. Those words had been a storm front that caused the fog of confusion and frost of dread in her mind to transform into a blizzard that seemed to freeze over her eyes and trap her within her own skull. Thoughts and words whirled through her mind like ice crystals ripped skyward by the winds that now howled between her ears.

Numb, confused words blurred from her numb, confused lips.

"I cannot…," Elincia blurted distantly.

She was aware neither of speaking nor of Ike's face which now shone with shock and sadness at words unheard by their speaker.

Elincia did not see Ike's face, the confused maelstrom of thoughts and words whirled through her skull and overwhelmed her senses.

Desperately, she seized upon one of the crystallized words, snatching it out of the air and staring at it with her mind's eye. As if the crystal had metamorphosed into parchment and the words it contained into text, she read it.

'I wanted to do that,' she read, recalling these as Ike's words.

This time, the past-tense did not escape her perceptions. Ike wasn't going back to the Mercenaries. But, why not? The notion bewildered her, she couldn't make it make sense, and yet she could not help a shiver of hope that pulsed through her being and seemed to slightly calm the gale.

With a sudden eagerness grappling with a lingering sense of trepidation, she seized another crystal from the typhoon in her mind and delved into its secrets.

'I talked it over with the others and I've made sure that they'll be in good hands after I leave,' she read Ike's words.

The memory of these words summoned forth another, as a small break in the storm began to open amidst the maddened whirl of crystal words around it. Framed by the chaos, and yet untouched by it, this window showed Elincia and Ike walking towards the Festival in deep conversation.

'They'll do fine,' she heard Ike say.

She heard, in this second hearing of those words, mingled pride and nostalgia as he spoke of his long time friends and comrades-in-arms. She heard his admiration for their strength and courage, gratitude for having known them and for their aid in his time of need, affection for those he regarded as family and trusted with his life and, she now sensed, a hint of sadness that he was parting with them.

But, that didn't make sense either. The Greil Mercenaries were Ike's whole life, they were his family. Why would he want to leave them? Eagerness changing to urgency, she snatched another crystal and opened her mind to its words.

'They loved me enough to let me go,' she recalled Ike saying.

Another portal tore itself open amidst the storm and, within, was the image of the jeweled scabbard that Ike had handed her moments ago. Again, wondering if her eyes might be deceiving her, she brought her gaze to the silvery writing on the scabbard.

Though families may ultimately separate, parents pass away and children grow up and leave home, bonds of love and brotherhood are eternal. Good luck Ike and, wherever you may go and whatever you may do, you will always be welcome with us.

Though Elincia did not know it, her reaction to the words was much like Ike's own. Tears, though these being of affection for the people who'd made the man that had captured her heart, gathered in her eyes as she snatched another crystal from the weakening gale.

'Mist wanted it this way,' she recalled Ike saying.

Another portal opened amidst the still strong winds of chaos and, within, Elincia saw Mist as she hugged Ike before leaving them to talk privately. This time, however, Mist's whispered 'Good luck' was heard as clearly as if it had been shouted. Mist had known, had wanted it even as she herself was recovering from the revelation of the tragic fates of her and Ike's parents. Anxiously, she seized another crystal and studied its words.

'She does seem much better and she, all of them, let me go,' she remembered Ike saying.

But, this yet failed to answer Elincia's question: if Ike was leaving the Mercenaries, even of his own free will and with their consent, why was he staying with her of all people? Burning curiosity, tinged with that shiver of hope that was now growing in strength, drove her to seize another crystal and delve into the words therein.

'Elincia, I love you,' she recalled Ike saying.

For a stretching second, all was silence. The typhoon of whirling words and thoughts, which had lessened to a mere gale, could no longer reach her ears. The world beyond the prison of enigma that was Elincia's skull still could not penetrate. Even thought, with but one exception, was impossible.

'Ike loves me?' was that exception.

The whirling gale of confused words and thoughts that raged in her skull seemed to regain some of its lost strength and seemed poised to, again, become a raging maelstrom. Months upon months of wondering why Ike had lingered in Melior, the question weighing down on her with both the taunting notion that he might not be leaving and the ever present possibility that he'd leave either oblivious to her affections or rejecting them.

The notion that he shared them never once occurred to her.

The quirky Item merchant Aimee, the female soldiers from the Army who would occasionally flirt with him and gaze at him adoringly when they thought he wasn't looking, all those Crimeans in Melior and elsewhere who were either admiring him from afar or were setting a place for him at the dinner table in hopes of him staying permanently, even Sanaki who'd confessed to Elincia that Ike had been the object of her first, short-lived crush. All those hundreds, maybe thousands of female admirers and Ike had chosen her?

Suddenly, the burgeoning maelstrom shifted and a number of crystallized words fell before her. Hurriedly, she snatched up one and read the words within.

'You employed me as a mercenary,' she recalled Ike saying two years ago, just before the Liberation of Melior. 'I'll give you your money's worth!...No. It means more than that...To my last breath, I will do all that I can to ensure your dream...Elincia.'

As she pondered these words, more rifts of calm interrupted the chaos of the storm. In one, she saw the moment Ike said those words. She saw the conviction in his blazing, azure eyes. She heard the waltz of gentility and ferocity in his tone, the former for her and the latter for those who would oppose him making his words real. She felt his hand as it clasped her shoulder in a grip that seemed to allow his strength to pass through leather and steel and flesh to siphon into her comparatively fragile form.

Something resembling repose, as close to repose as was likely possible in such storming confusion, came over Elincia as she remembered that moment. She took another crystal, her trepidation become anticipation and the shiver of hope now setting her whole being aquiver.

'You've done such an amazing job,' she recalled Ike saying in the Throne Room just after her Coronation. 'And, I believe you always will.'

Here, another rift in the storm began to fill with an image, this one of the Throne Room. She saw Ike kneel before her, his body battered and weary and yet his face dominated by his rakish smile and the gleam in his azure eyes conveying his faith in her every bit as much as his words did. Another of the fallen crystals was seized and its words were revealed.

'Okay,' she recalled Ike saying, 'come on. We'll do this together.'

Another of the newly revealed rifts in the storm began to fill with an image. She saw herself seated in her Throne as Ike, rising to his feet, offered her his hand. Another crystal was taken up from the pile that had fallen from the storm's winds and she read it.

'Elincia,' she remembered Ike saying, 'I love you.'

As though the eye of the mental storm in which she was now imprisoned had inexplicably become a geyser of euphoria, her whole being went ablaze with wild, explosive joy. But, that joy soured when she realized what this meant. If Ike did mean to stay then it would mean entrapping himself in the very world he hated. Even if Ike was firm in his convictions, such a forfeiture of his freedom, having to live amongst the Nobles he despised and the dread possibility of him turning into them always looming over him, would surely leave him miserable. Or, worse, it could kill his spirit which was the centerpiece of his well known, if self-denied, greatness.

"I cannot…," her numb lips blurted again to the dismayed Ike, concealed from her gaze by the storm in her mind.

A hint of trepidation again seeping into her being, she desperately seized upon another crystal and dissected the words therein.

'Elincia,' she recalled from Ike's curt lecture of moments ago, 'you can't give someone a country or freedom, it has to be earned like anything else worth having.'

Yet another of the rifts in the storm revealed an image, this one of Ike lecturing Elincia about the fault in her words when she offered him freedom which wasn't hers to give. While Elincia, both in the image and in reflection, could not have felt more foolish if her childhood tutor had somehow risen from the dead and placed a dunce cap on her head, Ike's face held no condescension. Instead, his features were drawn in a stern mask of…what? Grim resignation of the danger that he was taking upon his shoulders and its implications? Or, determination to guard himself against it? The events of this evening had left Elincia's nerves far too frayed to let the question remain unanswered so she seized another crystallized sentence and studied it with an intensity that surprised even herself.

'Sephiran believed…,' she recalled Ike's self conscious admission. 'Sephiran believed that I could change the world. That I could help you to create a real, lasting peace between the Beorc and the Laguz, that I might even be able to set the Nobles straight.'

As she finished reading the words, Elincia's jaw crept so far earthwards that, had another stray crystal flown in her direction, she likely would've choked on it. Now, with these words in hand, she studied Ike's stern countenance as he lectured her and she realized that the stern mask upon his face was not of resignation for the cage of the Nobility nor determination to preserve himself from its corruption but, instead was a resolution to reinvent the cage into a paradise. To cleanse the cage of corruption just as his blade had cleansed Crimea of Ashnard's oppression. Another crystal was taken from the group that fell before her and its words unraveled before her eager eyes.

'At first,' she remembered Ike beginning, 'it all seemed so overwhelming but, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I could do it. That I wanted to do it, that I could help to create a better world.'

He could do it, Elincia was certain of that before she even finished absorbing the words. Over the terrible months of the War, the days and nights that swung erratically from the boredom of repairing damaged weapons and armor and waiting for supplies to reach the front lines, to anticipation at the sight of the enemy's approach, to the desperation and terror of battle, and the relief and fatigue as hard earned victory neared, Elincia had seen Ike accomplish the impossible many times. Granted, Ike would never admit to it and would insist that it was his friends and allies who deserved the credit, but Elincia believed that Ike could accomplish anything. She took up the final crystal and, holding her breath as she did so, read the words within.

'Elincia,' she remembered Ike asking, 'will you marry me?'

As was often the case, Ike's words were simple and few, and, yet, the simplicity ended right there. What Ike intended to do, the next impossibility he sought to shatter, was an undertaking beyond anything he'd yet attempted. For a long, long moment, Elincia's voice seemed as if to have been frozen within her throat and she could not summon a reply nor, indeed, the wits to form that reply. Of course, she had faith that Ike could accomplish what he sought to do, that he could help her to build a lasting peace between the Beorc and the Laguz, that he could transform the Nobility he despised into something new, something better.

And, she had no doubts that he'd be a wonderful husband.

He had offered her his heart, but did she dare take it? Would Ike, somewhere down the road, regret the choice he made this day? Would they both regret it? The choice seemed to loom before her as if, within the gale of crystallized words in her skull, a canyon had formed and silently beckoned her to make a leap of faith…or into disaster. She felt, in this moment, a grave and perhaps impossible choice before her: should she set Ike free from a life which might degenerate into misery by refusing him, or should she accept and set them both free from heartbreak and everlasting regret?

The clue to solve this conundrum came not, however, from another crystal bearing words, nor of Ike somehow penetrating Elincia's confusion, nor from Elincia breaking the bonds herself. It came, instead, from a voice that drifted through some unseen break in the weakened but yet potent storm that raged within her skull. The voice was not Ike's, that much she could tell immediately, but she could not connect the voice to a name. The voice did, nonetheless, belong to someone she knew quite well.

In fact, the person who now spoke to her had had words with her and Ike mere minutes ago. As well as several good laughs at both of their expense.

_I've got you under my skin_

_I've got you deep in the heart of me_

_So deep in my heart, you're really a part of me_

_I've got you under my skin_

_I've tried so not to give in_

_I said to myself this affair_

_Never will go so well_

_But why should I try to resist_

_When darlin' I know so well_

_I've got you under my skin_

_I'd sacrifice anything come what might_

_For the sake of having you near_

_In spite of the warning voice that comes in the night_

_And repeats and repeats in my ears_

_Don't you know you fool_

_You never can win_

_Use your mentality, wake up to reality_

_But each time I do, just the thought of you_

_Makes me stop before I begin_

_'cause I got you under my skin_

As the song concluded, and as it too crystallized in the storm and landed squarely in her hands for her to read again, she realized that the words were true. She had, that very morning, delved into the elicit fantasy of leaving with Ike and joining the Mercenaries and allowing the Crown to pass from her inexperienced hands into another's. And, here was Ike willing to leave the life he had known and cherished since his birth out of love for her and devotion to the dream for which her father and his and so many others gave their lives. And, here, Elincia realized that if she did let Ike go then both of them would regret it forever.

Many, a great many, would likely look upon this as utter foolishness or charming but nonsensical romanticism. Still others would say that a union between a Queen and a common Mercenary was impossible. But, then again, they likely said the same thing about an alliance between Beorc and Laguz or of defeating Ashnard.

Which, needless to say, wasn't impossible at all.

And, in any case, Ike did not believe in 'impossible.'

And, suddenly, she didn't either.

Here, unexpectedly and inexplicably, the dream she'd concealed in the deepest recesses of her being had come true. The storm of confusion in her mind evaporated, leaving behind only moonlight and dizzyingly fresh air. The ice over her eyes thawed and she beheld Ike. His face was still awash with shock from words that she did not recall saying but that changed quickly enough.

"I cannot refuse," came forth from Elincia's no longer numb and confused lips. "Yes, Ike. Yes! A hundred times, yes!"

The transformation that overtook Ike's face was swift. His jaw, still hanging open dumbly from shock suddenly ground together and broadened into a grin that looked as though it threatened to split open his face. In a single motion, he vaulted from his crouch and seized Elincia by the waist. Elincia let out a gasp and a shuddering giggle as she was suddenly lifted off her feet and spun about by a wildly grinning Ike. Her unbound hair whirled about her in an emerald cyclone, distantly reminding her of the icy, mental storm of moments ago and occasionally eliciting a chuckle from Ike as an errant tendril tickled his face.

Eventually, Ike set her down, though the world continued to whirl around her and she wobbled in place.

Ike, looking equally dizzy but no less joyful, removed the ring he'd offered her earlier from its box and she eagerly offered him her hand. As the engagement ring made its journey across her ring finger, she studied it in wonderment. The ring was beautiful. A silver band, ornamented with tiny jewels styled after ivy leaves and spreading outward to embrace a setting dominated by a cluster of topazes cut to evoke the image of the sun orbited by a ring of tiny, spherical sapphires.

"You remember what Bastian said," Ike spoke up, shaking her from her reverie, "just after we broke the siege of Delbray? 'We are planets of your fair blazing sun.' The idea seemed appropriate for the ring."

Elincia hardly needed a mirror to know that she was blushing as brightly as the sun he'd just likened her to, her whole face blazed with a warmth that seemed to overpower the chill of the night and it only grew stronger as Ike's arms circled about her waist again. Rather than send her into another whirl, he brought her into a delicate embrace. Elincia could feel Ike's hard, sculpted muscles against her smaller form, as rough as she'd expect from Ike, and yet she could feel the almost reverent gentility with which he held her. For a long moment, she simply reveled in his warmth, Ike's wildly beating heart resonating against her head and sending a fresh wave of repose through her body.

Eventually, Elincia pushed back slightly and smiled up at Ike.

"So," she began, letting coy mischief seep into her tone, "what shall be the terms of our new contract?"

A split second of astonishment flashed across Ike's face at her unexpected joke but was quickly dispelled by a chuckle and a transparent mockery of contemplation.

"Let's see," he began, the mischief in his tone matching hers. "The Party of the First Part, that's me, shall ensure the happiness of the Party of the Second Part, that's you. He'll be expected to not deny her anything, to dry her tears when she's sad and to beat anyone who insults her or challenges her honor to a pulp."

Elincia went into a long laugh, the force of the hilarity tossing her head backwards as she tried to envision who'd be idiotic enough to compel Ike to act upon that third term. And, she could not resist the illicit hope that La Roche was that idiotic.

"Very well," she replied, her words still punctuated by giggles. "Let me think…ah, I have it! The Party of the Second Part shall be expected to kiss the Party of the First Party daily. She will also hear any and all thoughts and recommendations he has for revitalizing this country without reproach and, finally, she will bear and love his children should he desire them."

A flicker of surprise wove across Ike's face before his rakish smile reappeared.

"Well then," he replied, "I better add figuring out how to be a good father to my end of the contract."

"And," Elincia retorted, her grin threatening to take in her ears, "I believe I'll add that the Party of the Second Part will continue to train with her husband. And that, when I say we're going riding, that's the end of the debate."

"Fair enough," Ike replied, "and, when I believe that the Party of the Second Part is overworked, I will take her to Moonstone Lake so she can rest."

The image of being on a lake shore with Ike, alone with Ike, sent Elincia's heart beating at wild speeds and she felt her cheeks color yet again. The only answer she could offer was a fervent nod.

"Sounds good," Ike commented with an approving nod.

"Agreed," Elincia answered. "Expiration?"

Ike leaned in close to Elincia, so close that she could breathe in his rich, earthy scent and she could practically feel her cheeks turn even redder at his proximity.

"How about 'till death do we part?'" he whispered conspiratorially, his rakish grin broadening from ear to ear.

Elincia felt a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth as well and tears trickling from her eyes, though these being of uncontrollable joy.

"You've got a deal, I believe the phrase is," she informed him, the twinkle of mischief in her eye returning. "Shall we draw up papers or is a handshake good enough?"

The gleam of mischief in Elincia's eyes found a twin in Ike's, coupled with a look of barely restrained longing as the distance between their faces shrank further.

"I have a better idea," he whispered, and she felt his hands on her waist again.

In a single motion, Ike had lifted her skyward again and drew her against his torso, his lips angling for hers.

When Elincia had spoken to Lucia, about when Ike had kissed her after his confrontation with the Black Knight, she'd described it as 'incredible.' This kiss though surpassed the first two the way a knightly duel surpasses a schoolyard scuffle.

The meeting of their lips seemed to banish the chilly air of the night and ushered in balmy warmth that washed over her being, warm and soothing and warding off the remaining chill of her long worries. His tongue lanced across the threshold of their melded lips, grabbling with hers and gently probing all about the inside of her mouth. She reciprocated, their tongues coiling about each other in a madcap, serpentine battle. She was still held aloft, his arms hugging her against his broad torso with a gentility that she alone was aware of him possessing, his fingertips digging into her lithe back and seeming to turn her taut muscles into putty as warmth migrated through leather gloves and woven silk to siphon into her body. Her own hands had roamed all about his form, her fingers slipping beneath the rough fabric of his shirt to feel the hard muscle of his shoulders and neck. Her lithe fingers swept over his neck, moving to the top of his spine, and her nails dug into the hard flesh covering the ivory notches. The penetration was hardly enough to draw blood but it did quicken Ike's breathing, the warm currents invading her throat suddenly becoming punctuated with ragged gasps until he eventually pulled away.

"I…," Elincia blurted, alarmed. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Ragged gasps continued to escape Ike's lips, his eyes were wide and beads of perspiration trickled down his brow. Eventually, he regained his composure and regarded Elincia, who still regarded him with grave concern and a hint of alarm.

Ike, by contrast, grinned that rakish smile she'd come to adore.

"That thing with your nails," he began, his grin broadening. "Do it again."

Smiling, relief and happiness washing anew over her, she did.

(End)

Falchion1984: Well, I've said my two dozen prayers regarding the reviews so here's hoping. Well, moving on, I hope you guys liked what I came up with for Ike and Elincia's little chat. Much of that I had to write via stream of consciousness, essentially just getting it down on paper while charged with adrenaline and waiting until it was all there before editing. I also thought that little bit about the new 'contract' would be funny. I must, however, give credit where it is due. The idea of a humorous marriage contract was first penned, or typed I guess I should say, by Lyxie, an author of Zelda fanfics of great skill. In her Zelda fic, 'the Change,' Link and Zelda negotiated a similar contract, though one with different terms and they called it Terms of Surrender. Naturally, Link and Zelda disagreed about which of them was doing the surrendering. So, having given Lxyie her due, I recommend her Zelda fics. On a side note, the idea of Ranulf singing came from SweetMisery430's recently deleted *faint sobbing noises* story 'The Miss Tellius Beauty Pageant.' Sparing details, Lethe, after losing the singing portion, claims that since Ranulf is a professionally trained tenor, his expectations of the contestants are too high. And, the idea stuck.

Ranulf: *Sings 'Funiculi, funiculi'*

Falchion1984 *Grimacing* If you are daring enough to want to put a sound to this image, go to the link on my page in the section that talks about 'Love Sonata,' play the song that appears and then picture Ranulf singing that song.

*After the reader has done so*

Falchion1984: Scary, isn't it? Well, please review and catch you later.


	6. Chapter 6

Falchion1984: Whew, that was touch and go for a while. Anyhow, this chapter will be something of a fun filler between the proposal and the wedding. This is NOT the last chapter, but it might be the last I can get up for at least a bit. School is heating up and it could constrain my time. Though, on the bright side, my classes have final papers/projects in the place of final exams so I'll be getting out around December 8th.

Mist: Uh, mentioning that might've been a bad idea.

Falchion1984: Why? *Inhales* Wait, what's that smell?

Ranulf: A torch bearing mob.

Falchion1984: Ah…well…er….yes. I guess my co-hosts will have to take care of you for a while. I will be…running for my life! *Dashes off*

Ranulf: Well, this chapter will be all from Lucia's perspective and she'll be telling her side of the story during the proposal and we'll some words from Sephiran about his motives.

Mist: We should've made her a bigger player in our conspiracy, she DID help us by talking Elincia into going to the Festival with Ike.

Ranulf: Whatever. Well, DISCLAIMER: Falchion1984 doesn't own Fire Emblem or the song 'Let's Fall in Love.'

(Lucia)

A discreet sigh of relief parted Lucia's lips as she sagged bonelessly against the elm that she'd appropriated as her place of concealment, a tired grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. After leading Elincia to the podium for her speech, she'd remained at a polite distance from the Queen. Though Lucia was confident that Elincia would go through with her plan to question Ike, the weariness and melancholy she'd perceived in her liege's face and manner urged her to remain close at hand in case she was needed.

This, unfortunately, necessitated that she take to the dance floor, where she was promptly pounced upon by Bastian. During her attempt at the Demonsthene, she stole occasional glances at Ike and Elincia.

'That was a bad idea,' Lucia mused, massaging a smarting ankle.

Performing the Demonsthene without one's undivided attention was not one of her best ideas, but the view was…interesting. Ike was clearly practiced in the Demonsthene, the wild steps seeming as natural to him as sword fighting, while Elincia made a clumsy but determined effort to keep up. More than a few of Elincia's awkward landings made Lucia wince, she took care to wipe the expression off her face before Bastion noticed.

What the loquacious Count would do in that case, Lucia dreaded to contemplate.

A madly blushing Silok soon came up and stammered his entreaty for the next dance, to which Lucia instantly agreed to the umbrage of Bastian. Her gaze found the pair again, and she was struck by the change she beheld in them. Gradually, the awkward twists and clumsy landings followed by flailing arms became fewer and fewer, soon ceasing altogether. The two had achieved harmony, with the music and each other, and soon looked as if they'd danced like this for years.

Then, her view was blocked by Reginald who requested the next dance.

Paying little attention to Reginald, and even less to the impatient glares from what must've been Reginald's latest crop of girlfriends, Lucia kept her gaze on Ike and Elincia. The two now moved with a hypnotic grace that reminded Lucia of two conflagrations, two flames burning separately and yet inching towards each other. Always swaying in the wind inches apart and trading cinders the way lovers might trade small kisses. The resemblance extended beyond appearances as well, for as Lucia watched the two of them genuinely enjoying themselves, she felt comforting warmth flow through her being.

By the coloration of his cheeks, Ike was feeling warmth as well; though probably in a more acute fashion.

Eventually, Lucia's stamina was spent and Reginald selected a new partner from the mob of women trailing him, so she left the floor and limped on her smarting ankle toward the creatively arranged buffet tables. Famished from the demanding dance, and more than a little impatient for Ike and Elincia to get on with it, she loaded her plate with a veritable feast of candied apples and newly invented Phoenician berry pasties. She'd been about to dump the whole thing down her throat when she noticed Ike and Elincia wandering away from the Festival. Realizing that this might be what she was waiting for, she set her plate down and followed.

'You two owe me,' she thought uncharitably as she spied someone making off with her abandoned plate.

Still, she was not disappointed.

For a long, long moment, the pair simply strolled to a small grove sheltered by elms well away from the Festival, arm-in-arm, with Elincia resting her head on Ike's shoulder. This image summoned in Lucia a memory of the late King Ramon and the Queen, walking through the courtyard and speaking to each other in low, intimate tones, in a fashion quite similar to what she beheld now.

Thinking about King Ramon, the visionary who'd been her second father and an inspiration, caused her eyes to swim with unshed tears but Lucia blinked them back and hoped that the resemblance was prophetic.

The scene, however, was rather completely disrupted when Ranulf bounded over and began his usual barrage of well meaning jibes and playful insults. Ike and Elincia were laughing at the banter, but that changed when Ranulf admitted to the Demosthene's true significance. The look of undisguised anger that overtook Ike's normally stoic features found a twin on Lucia's face.

'If Bastian hears about this…,' Lucia mused angrily, with a palpable undercurrent of distress, 'I'll never hear the end of it.'

Ranulf eventually left, which gave Lucia some hope that the two would finally have their long overdue talk, but then Mist appeared. Still more banter followed, along with some rough housing between Ike and Mist, growing only more raucous when Ranulf rejoined them. Broad grins, jokes and hearty laughter followed and Lucia could see that Elincia was relaxing, even enjoying the antics. Lucia found it amusing as well, but impatience continued to gnaw at her, as well as hunger, and she suspected Elincia was also eager for their guests to depart.

Eventually, they did. Lucia watched as Ranulf offered a barb to Mist, and she mentally saluted the younger girl's retort. Mist stomped off with Ranulf pretending to be hobbling in her wake and then, apparently forgetting the altercation, the two scrambled to hide behind a neighboring elm and watched the pair. Unaware of her tiny audience, a clearly nervous Elincia asked Ike why he was still here.

Lucia had to fight the urge to bash her head on the tree trunk when she'd heard Ike's reply.

That, however, was where the laughs ended. Lucia could still see upon Elincia's face the wistful longing and pained resignation she'd noticed that morning. Elincia had tried to put on a brave front, working to keep her expression placid and her tone calm and even, but Lucia wasn't fooled.

Apparently, Ike wasn't either.

The conversation, or debate, that followed was an illustration of her earlier observation, that being that humility had its drawbacks, where Ike wildly protested Elincia's glowing praise for his contributions to Crimea's liberation and brightening future. Lucia was surprised, and fairly impressed, when Ike turned the dialogue back against her and Elincia found herself discovering that she shared Ike's humility without even realizing it.

How Ranulf, who was known for slinging mingled backhanded compliments and playful insults when Ike displayed himself to have more wisdom than a tinderbox, watched all this and yet remained silent remained one of Tellius' great mysteries.

'Perhaps Mist knocked him out,' Lucia mused, choking down a snicker.

Still, the two eventually came to the point and Lucia watched as Elincia, gazing with the barest hint of smothered longing at he who was both the cause and the solution to her melancholy, re-gathered her composure and told him to leave.

As Lucia had observed that morning, Ike meant a great deal to Elincia. And, that was why she was letting him go.

Lucia could practically hear the Queen's heart shatter as the words left her lips.

And, here, Ike did the unexpected yet again by refusing to leave.

And, Lucia knew the reason even before Ike had admitted it.

Granted, her observations of Ike and Elincia during the War and Elincia's accidental confessions that morning had told Lucia all she needed to know. But what happened surprised her nonetheless. Elincia's brave front, the mask of forced stoicism and buried sadness, crumbled in an instant and was replaced by shock and no small amount of confusion. Lucia could, however, also see the faintest gleam of hope in her forlorn eyes.

Ike's eyes drifted out of Lucia's sight, making it hard for Lucia to guess his own thoughts from her vantage point, but his voice quickly enlightened. It was low, hoarse with emotion and his tone seemed ashamed.

Ike had apologized.

Lucia was quite unaccustomed to seeing a man apologize, at least in a sincere fashion, but she could see that Ike was entirely genuine.

Ike's voice was laced with anguish, as though each word ripped away a raw hunk of his own flesh, as he explained. Apologies, recollections, confessions and reflections all came out in a rush. But, she heard no attempt on his part at making excuses or placation and he spoke with a depth and sincerity that surprised Lucia almost as much as it did Elincia. Ike soon came forward and blurted that he loved Elincia, he had practically since they'd met, and yet he'd never told her before now.

Instead, he'd been…well, everywhere.

He'd been spending time with his sister to make sure she'd recovered from learning the tragic history of their parents, seeing to the Mercenary Company's future, working in the Reconstruction, hunting down remnants of Ashnard's Army and, generally, just being himself.

Lucia couldn't help a smolder of anger at Ike leaving Elincia waiting for so long, but she forced herself to calm down. Ike's great altruism and prowess in battle came at the expense of his intellect; everybody who knew him knew that. And, she was forced to admit, there were other, less honorable things that could distract a man than helping his adoptive family and countrymen in their time of need.

And, if Elincia could so readily forgive him, then Lucia could as well.

Still, she made a mental note that Ike needed a lesson in getting his priorities straight.

Despite her frustration over Ike's thick headedness, she was impressed. He had in him the ability to let his sense of right and wrong overpower, seeming with ease, either his pride or his desire for personal gain. And, his words carried an unmistakable sincerity as he acknowledged his mistake and offered himself to her, imperfect and without putting on airs or making grandiose, false promises.

Even Geoffrey, one of the most chivalrous men she knew, would be hard pressed to admit his faults so readily.

Between Ike's evident sincerity, the conviction with which he declared his love and his belief in peace between the Beorc and Laguz and his indelible humility, Lucia found it shockingly obvious how he'd enchanted Elincia so. And, she could not suppress a flush of pride that she'd correctly interpreted his reasons for staying in Melior.

Then, the moment came. Ike offered Elincia his ring and Lucia inhaled expectantly. She nearly choked on her own breath when Elincia had seemingly gone into a stuttering refusal. Ike's face contorted in shock and dawning desolation at the words while Lucia's stomach ceased its rumbling and knotted with helpless terror.

For a stretching second, all was silence, stillness and murmurs of 'I cannot.' Then, another low voice broke Lucia's alarmed trance.

"This doesn't look good," she heard a familiar voice whisper.

Lucia's head snapped in the direction of the sound and she beheld Ranulf and Mist. In the tumult of the moment, she'd forgotten they were there. Mist looked as distressed as Lucia felt while Ranulf, looking unnaturally calm and as smug as ever, placed a hand on the younger woman's shoulder.

"Don't worry," he whispered reassuringly, "I have a plan."

"Now, I'm really worried," Mist shot back, echoing Lucia's own thoughts on the matter.

Ranulf, unperturbed, ruffled an aggravated Mist's hair and then stepped away from the elm. He paused and faced Mist once more.

"If I'm not back in five minutes…," he began, trailing off as if for dramatic effect, "just wait longer."

As Ranulf raced in the direction of the Festival, Mist ground her teeth in obvious aggravation and began bashing her head against the tree trunk. Forcing herself not to follow suit, Lucia turned to face Ike and Elincia once more. The scene of Elincia seemingly refusing Ike remained eerily unchanged, as though the sensation of cold shock and disbelief had pervaded the grove and entombed the scene in an icy, melancholy portrait of despair.

The unseen ice thawed, however, when Ranulf's familiar voice drifted over the scene, singing that song that pierced the melancholy stillness and transforming Elincia's 'I cannot' into 'I cannot refuse' as she eagerly accepted Ike's proposal.

The ensuing exchange of fervent kisses was taken by Lucia as her cue to depart and grant the two their privacy.

Even so, she couldn't resist staring back at the pair as she walked away. The newly engaged couple's overflowing passion had calmed into a portrait of tender affection, the two embracing gently with Elincia running her fingers through Ike's hair. This image too summoned a memory, this being of Elincia's story about how she and Mist had once conspired to comb out Ike's infamously unruly hair.

Beyond giving the three of them a good laugh, as well as Lucia after hearing it, the exercise had no effect.

And, though Lucia could never bring herself to question the honesty of her Queen and lifelong friend, she was still dubious about the claim that even empting a pail of seawater over Ike's head hadn't altered his unruly mane.

Lucia moved quietly, taking care not to make any noise that might disturb them. Once she was well away, she strode back towards the Festival and let out a second, longer sigh of relief.

"It was touch and go for a while," she thought aloud, "but I think Ike handled that nicely."

"I concur," a voice rang out from behind her.

Lucia's reply to the sudden intrusion was a decidedly unladylike yelp and a small leap. Her bodyguard training took over at that point and she pivoted in the air, her hand finding the hilt of her sword. She landed, on her smarting ankle to her great displeasure, with her sword out; its tip poised a hairsbreadth from the offender's throat.

"Rather jumpy, aren't we?" Sephiran asked, looking impossibly cheerful for one with a sword pointed at his throat.

Lucia felt her entire body go numb with shock at the realization that she'd just drawn her sword against, and nearly decapitated, the Prime Minister of the Begnion Empire. Numb shaky hands somehow guided her sword away from Sephiran's neck and back into its scabbard without impaling anything as apology, and more than a hint of desperation, painted her features.

Sephiran, as if sensing her distress, brought up one placating hand.

"Apologies are unnecessary," he informed her, mischief crossing his features. "Besides, I am perhaps too fond of such prankish behavior."

Sensing that Sephiran was in earnest, Lucia heaved yet another sigh of relief and the two continued toward the Festival. Once Lucia had regained her wits, slightly addled by the diplomatic incident that had nearly occurred moments ago, an echo from the talk between Ike and Elincia reverberated in her mind.

"I just remembered," Lucia spoke up, her curiosity getting the better of her, "Ike said that you encouraged him to propose to Elincia."

The instant the words were out of her mouth, her jaw nearly plummeted at her idiocy. This, surely, must've been a private matter between Sephiran and Ike and Sephiran surely would not appreciate his role in this romance turning into fodder for gossipers.

"That is correct," Sephiran replied, levity again touching his features. "And, you want to know why."

Lucia, again, felt her stomach knot with dread, worried that he'd take her inquiry as impertinent. Sephiran's features became grim, as did Lucia's outlook on the situation, but when he spoke his tone was stern rather than indignant.

"Crimea has come far, but it has farther still to go," Sephiran stated, almost rhetorically. "Rebuilding this country and creating a lasting peace between the Beorc and the Laguz is an endeavor unprecedented in our time. It will require much time, uncanny leadership and great perseverance. Ike will never admit to it, but he is the best person for the job. He has reached across the divide between our peoples many times, he is one of the few who has even tried, and he now commands more respect amongst the Laguz than any Beorc alive. Beyond that, he can genuinely connect with the common people because he knows what it's like to work for a living and to struggle to make ends meet. Perhaps it's his low birth and working background, or maybe it's his empathy for others, but I find this a rare quality which I've yet to see in any other statesman that I've met. Beyond that, he is completely unafraid to voice his views and stand by them. He's a man that can be trusted."

"You don't trust your fellow Senators?" Lucia asked, sensing both the invitation to be candid and the implication within the words.

"Not as far as I can throw them," he replied with a derisive snort. "And, I doubt I could even lift them. No, the Senate has become a perverted mockery of its former self. My father, who was the previous Prime Minister, often told me stories about how the Senate used to operate long ago. In those days, before Begnion unified into the Empire, it was a group of seven feudal states, hence the traditional seven seats in the Senate. Being a Senator back then meant representing one's people, in action and conduct, as well as in decision making. Before being admitted, a Senator would have to prove himself in a rigorous examination. What these examinations entailed varied from state to state, but they were designed to test not only their knowledge but their physical prowess, ethical standards and leadership. Disputes between the various feudal states were settled either in carefully moderated debate or, if debate failed, contests of physical prowess. These might include racing or horsemanship or jousting or sword fighting or wrestling or some such. These contests rarely went to the death, though accidents were known to happen, but the possibility was there and facing it without trepidation was proof of a Senator's devotion to his people."

Lucia had found brief amusement in the idea of a pair of Begnion Senators jousting, but it had been short lived as she discerned the burning contempt in Sephiran's tirade. Granted, Lucia had her grievances about La Roche and others on King Ramon's Council, but Sephiran's sentiments sounded far colder and harsher than hers by far.

"What happened?" she asked, delicately.

"Things changed," Sephiran replied, almost spitting the words like venom. "Some began claiming that the contests of prowess were barbaric and vulgar and that the meticulous testing of prospective Senators and the moderation employed in the debates made governance inefficient. The message caught on and, after Apostle Lavidia Altina formally dissolved the feudal states and created the Empire, the Senate of today came into being. Many believed those events to represent a new era of order and harmony, but with the many problems of governing such a vast realm, the work of the Senate is rarely done. In fact, it rarely seems to start. The Senators spend so much time there, in the pomp and splendor of Sienne, that they forget the people they're supposed to represent. The shift away from physical prowess also began a paradigm shift, a degeneration I call it, in what a Senator must be. Now, wealth and sophistry have replaced loyalty and integrity as perquisites."

Here, Sephiran paused to give another derisive snort followed by an agonized sigh.

"Now," he began again, in the wistful tone of a man who'd seen his best days come and go, "any self-centered fool can buy his way in or be placed there to act as the voice of some petty agitator all the while lining their own pockets with gold while neglecting and ridiculing their 'citizens.' Those few who have any decency are either intimidated into silence, even when they can clearly see what corruption has done to Begnion, or they're nudged out by their fellows. 'Debates' have degenerated into shouting matches and other means of ending impasse have turned into cruel jokes. I don't want the same to happen here, and ruin this historic opportunity."

Again, Sephiran had to pause. And, Lucia was grateful for the reprieve, for her mind was dazed with what she'd heard. It wasn't the story itself that perplexed her; she'd read the ancient histories of Begnion kept in Melior's library, which she realized painted the contests of physical prowess in a far less flattering light than Sephiran did.

'Probably because they were written by the same people who ended them,' she realized intuitively, making a mental note to see if there were works presenting a more balanced perspective.

Nor was it Sephiran's dire tone that confounded her; Lucia had also had unflattering opinions regarding others in Crimea's political class, though Sephiran's sentiments and grievances almost made hers seem diminutive by comparison. Whereas Lucia would, in her less charitable moments, regard her fellow Courtiers as obstructing her country's growth, Sephiran seemed to be talking about his fellow Senators as if they'd killed his country. Or, at least, perverted it.

What puzzled her was why Sephiran was offering such a personal confession to someone he'd just met. Even Janaff asking her out on a date in the middle of their first conversation hadn't surprised her; it hadn't been the first time such had occurred, though Janaff had become her first real friend among the Laguz whereas others she'd thusly refused rarely turned up again. The exception, naturally, was Bastian. Still, Sephiran's words and tone were of the sort she might've expected him to use with a close and trusted friend and confidant, not a stranger.

"I will probably sound dreadfully childish for saying this," Sephiran continued, the barest hint of a smile on his face, "but Ike almost reminds me of one of those ancient Senators. In the way he values loyalty and integrity over monetary or political gain. He demonstrated this when he agreed to aid Crimea even though Daein was the winning, and more lucrative, side. He clearly has the conviction and connection to the people that the ancient Senators did, and that is the sort of mindset Crimea needs above all things. But, he lacks the sharp wits and savvy that the ancient Senators were known to possess. Anyone who'd keep a woman like Elincia waiting for two years, even for honorable reasons, is clearly lacking in that capacity."

Between pondering Ike's reaction should anyone tell him he'd been likened to an ancient Begnion Senator and her sudden reminiscence of Elincia's anecdotes about Ike's thick headedness, Lucia was bending every fiber of her being to the task of not bursting into hysterical laughter.

"I have no doubts that Ike has been preparing himself for this by reading up on politics," Sephiran went on, the ghost of a smile on his face evolving into a smirk, "probably because Soren arranged it. Still, even the finest books can only teach you so much. Ike, and Elincia as well, will need a guide in governing this land. Someone quick witted, intelligent and who shares their principles…someone like you."

Lucia, her submerged laughter suddenly forgotten, nearly tripped over her own feet at this declaration. Sephiran noted this with a twinkle of gentle amusement that suddenly made Lucia deeply uneasy.

If Sephiran noticed her discomfiture, he gave no indication.

"Oh, yes," Sephiran chuckled, his usual humor returning. "The late Duke Cassio Escalus, of His Majesty's Loyal Opposition, once tried to induce you to reconsider your support of King Ramon's plans for Beorc/Laguz relations with a staggering sum in bribes. You refused, and tricked him into incriminating himself, which led to his dismissal and the beginnings of the peace we now celebrate. Your loyalty to your principles and your sharp wits will make you invaluable to them and I know you're up to the task. Your father may have neglected to mention the…ungentlemanly tendencies of the Council, but his teaching is peerless."

It took every ounce of Lucia's training as a stateswoman to prevent her face from showing how startled she was. Granted, she knew that Sephiran was a consummate spy and a very resourceful man for whom few secrets were out of reach, but this left her head abuzz with questions. In order to know this much, not only about Ike but about her as well, he'd have needed to have studied them, meticulously, for years. And yet, even when Lucia taxed her memory, she could not recall an encounter with a man even remotely resembling Sephiran. And, for that matter, how did he know about Escalus? While exposing him had been a victory, his dismissal had been disguised as him resigning in order to avoid scandal. The matter had been stricken from the record and those few who recalled it were sworn to secrecy. So, where did Sephiran get his information? And, for that matter, how had he known about her father teaching her and the minor flaw in the lessons?

Before that thought could be followed through to conclusion, his more recent words cut through to her awareness. He had said that Ike and Elincia would need her, and he was right. As disconcerting as Sephiran's knowledge was, the underlying truth was unmistakable and demanded that she shove aside any distractions.

She did so, discreetly suspecting that that what Sephiran had intended all along.

"You will forgive me my ranting, I hope?" Sephiran requested, to which Lucia gave an approving, if still confused, nod. "You may recall from Elincia's stories that I am something of a spy. During that time, I saw much that opened my eyes to the harsh realities of the world. So often, I've met and interacted with people living in abject squalor because of high taxes, or merchants and craftsmen forced to close their shops because our commerce laws make it impossible to turn a profit, or those of well-to-do backgrounds contracting their business interests, and putting people out of work in the process, because they're afraid their Senator's tax collectors are poised to bankrupt them, which happens rather frequently. The Senate perpetuates this over-taxation and corruption, they profit by it, and they will not lift a finger to stop it. Ike, though, he shows incredible promise. I know him, better than he would suspect, and I know that he cannot be bribed or intimidated and that his devotion to his cause is unshakable. And, that is exactly what Crimea will need in these challenging times."

Lucia had to admit, she was quite surprised by this pronouncement. To the best of her knowledge, Ike and Sephiran had only spoken on four occasions, all of them quite brief, and yet Sephiran's assessment of Ike carried a great deal of confidence and a strong undercurrent of certainty.

Absolute certainty.

"That's…," she began, trying to disguise her still considerable puzzlement, "that's quite a vote of confidence."

Sephiran gave her a cryptic smile.

"Let's just say that I'm…farsighted," he replied. "But, let us go. I'm curious as to how the Greil Mercenaries will react to this joyous news."

"You mean the in-laws," Lucia corrected, remembering how Ike had called them his family.

"Quite right," Sephiran agreed. "Let us go."

A gleeful smirk dawned on Lucia's face, putting to rest her puzzlement over Sephiran, at least for the moment, and the two sought out the Greil Mercenaries. As the group was practically guests of honor, they were not difficult to find. Most of them were seated at a large table just on the edge of the dance floor. Oscar, by the look of things, was telling some tale which Rhys made strangled comments on through Mia's fearsome hug.

Astrid was sitting next to Gatrie. She had, in stark contrast to her customary modesty, removed her boots and was massaging her feet while Gatrie was speaking to her in an apologetic tone

Apparently, Gatrie's dancing hadn't improved any.

'You have my sympathies,' Lucia mused, no stranger to inept dance partners herself.

Soren, as usual, was engrossed in a book. Ilyana, also as usual, was devouring at least four times her body weight in Festival cuisine, the sight making Lucia's own stomach rumble with hunger once more. Zihark, taking advantage of Ilyana's preoccupation, maneuvered his quick hand to her posterior. Boyd and Titania were moving towards the table, from the dance floor interestingly enough. More interesting still, Boyd had his arm around Titania's waist and seemed in no hurry to remove it. Mist, for obvious reasons, bounded over and leapt into her seat quivering with anticipation and a beaming grin on her face. Rolf regarded her with puzzlement. Shinon was hunched over his drink, silent and brooding.

Sure enough, Ike and Elincia appeared and began heading towards the table. Lucia maneuvered to find the best angle from which to watch the spectacle and her eyebrow arched upwards when she saw that the two weren't holding hands. Furthermore, Elincia had assumed her customary pose of hands crossed before her bosom, the ring concealed beneath her slender fingers.

The two, apparently, had decided to be sneaky and try and surprise the Mercenaries.

'Those two being sneaky?' Lucia mused, awed by the absurdity. 'The day they succeed at it is the day I let Bastian see me unclothed.'

Shaking herself back to attention, she watched as the Greil Mercenaries spotted the couple and rose in greeting, drinks in hand. They moved to partially enclose Ike, doubtless suspecting his intent. Shinon gave a derisive snort.

"Well, well," he slurred, his tone rife with contempt and sounding somehow drunken. "If it ain't Ike…'n he's brought his…girl….girlfr…girlfri…"

"His girlfriend?" Mist supplied, her tone rife with wickedness.

"Yeah, that's it," Shinon slurred.

Deciding that the cosmic mystery of how someone can get intoxicated on lemonade would have to wait, Lucia watched as Ike gave a sly grin and replied.

"She's not my girlfriend," he informed the red haired Sniper.

Shinon's reply, if it could be called that, was a number of insults which his inexplicable drunkenness had spliced into such nonsense as 'ignorapoop,' nincommus' and 'mothuck fering mild chan.' Ike, apparently unperturbed, grinned from ear to ear and continued as the Mercenaries collectively took a long draft from their mugs.

"She's my fiancé," he declared.

Perhaps Ike had intended to cause a bout of comedic choking by timing it thusly, but either the Mercenaries were genuinely shocked by the words or they'd foreseen his plot and decided to turn it back against him. Lucia suspected the latter and, either way, Ike found himself becoming the point of intersection for twelve flying sprays of lemon scented water and saliva.

"Was that really necessary?!" the agitated, soaked, lemon scented Ike demanded.

Ike never received an answer; Titania, unbothered by Ike's tone of voice or his moistened state, engulfed him in a tight hug, joyful tears rimming her eyes and looking for all the world like a mother whose son was getting married.

Again, Ike's talk about the Greil Mercenaries being his family echoed in Lucia's ear and she found herself suspecting that the maternal aura underlying Titania's reaction was far from coincidental.

Elincia was not spared the assault either, for the young Queen soon found herself subjected to a flying tackle hug from Mist that nearly sent both women sprawling.

Once the newly engaged couple had extricated themselves, and after the men of the Company had swallowed their laughter, the other Mercenaries offered their own congratulations. Oscar clapped a hand on Ike's shoulder and gave it a comradely squeeze while offering words of praise that Ike waved away in his customary modesty. Boyd, uncouth as ever, gave Elincia a playful punch in the arm which caused Lucia's bodyguard instincts to flare. Elincia, apparently used to this treatment, reciprocated, which prompted Boyd to leap back feigning pain while smirking all the while. The smirk briefly disappeared when Titania yanked him away and began reprimanding him for his behavior. He put up both hands, offering a placating smile.

"Relax Titan," he entreated, the petname producing the opposite effect in the red haired Paladin. "Just welcoming her to the family."

'Titan' was about to say more, probably to the effect of a reduction in his salary, but Boyd silenced her by kissing her on the cheek. Titania's words abruptly died in her throat and her face began taking on the same coloration as her hair. Lucia felt her eyebrows arch upwards once more and, recalling Boyd and Titania's return from the dance floor, a smirk dawned on her features to match the one returning to Boyd's face.

After that, the assembly divided. Elincia, after what looked to be some stalling to build suspense on her part, showed the women of the Company her ring. After a few moments of stunned silence at the beautiful ring, they began asking questions about how Ike had proposed. Ike, meanwhile, had been taken aside by the men of the Company and, judging by what little Lucia could hear from her distant vantage point, they were planning Ike's bachelor party.

Lucia couldn't hear much, but Gatrie's talk about 'exotic women with really big assets' told Lucia all she needed to know.

Judging by Ike's puzzled expression, he'd never attended a bachelor party and hadn't the faintest idea what Gatrie was getting at. Lucia, massaging away the beginnings of a headache, began mentally adding to the curriculum she'd been preparing for Ike.

The Greil Mercenaries and the newly engaged couple eventually reconvened with a fresh batch of drinks and the mugs clacked against each other in a deafening toast that nearly shattered the crockery. Embraces and friendly but indistinct banter followed until a familiar voice rose from the direction of the orchestra.

"Friends, Crimeans, countrymen, lend me your ears," Ranulf thundered from the piano, his dramatic façade quickly collapsing into uncontrollable laughter. "Sorry, couldn't resist. Still, I'd like you to listen because this next song is a special one that I threw together just for this occasion. It's more fun as a duet and I'd like to call Mist Gawain over here to perform with me."

Given Mist's reputation for shyness, at least according to Elincia's stories, Lucia suspected that Mist's immediate, and enthusiastic, acquiescence meant premeditation on both her and Ranulf's part. She bounded over the waiting Ranulf, couples following in her wake to repopulate the dance floor once again. Ike offered a warm smile and his arm to Elincia and, with a reciprocating smile, she accepted it and the two moved to the center of the dance floor as Ranulf began to sing.

_We might have been meant for each other  
To be or not to be, let our hearts discover_

Lucia watched as Ike and Elincia finally reached the center of the dance floor. Too famished to dance, too disinclined to run the risk of being pounced on by Bastian again and too curious as to what else would happen, she found the best vantage point she could and watched as Ike offered an uncharacteristically gentlemanly bow to Elincia. She gave an answering curtsey and Ike's hand found her waist while Elincia's rested on his shoulder. Their other hands laced together off to the side and the two began a waltz, though one faster than usual to match the tempo of Ranulf's song.

_I have a feeling, it's a feeling I'm concealing - I don't know why_

Mist, having newly arrived, took up the song.

_It's just a mental, incidental, sentimental – alibi_

Here, the two partners in crime paused to exchange brief, sly smiles; doubtless congradulating one another on their success in nudging Ike and Elincia together, a success in which Lucia mentally included herself, before continuing to sing in unsion.

_But I adore you, so strong for you  
Why go on stalling, I am falling, love is calling - why be shy_

Ike and Elincia, by this time, were dancing in earnest. Unlike the earlier, rather turbulent experiment with the Demosthene, this dance was learned by both of them in an instant. Granted, Elincia had learned how to waltz during her years at the Royal Villa, but she rather doubted that such would be part of a Mercenary's education. Yet, obviously, Ike was profecient in this dance as well. And, beyond that, there was a sense of…Lucia wasn't sure what to call it, belonging perhaps, or maybe familiarity. Almost as if the two had done this before.

'Perhaps they have,' Lucia considered, recalling the party at following the Signing of the Treaty of Serenes in the Forest which was the Treaty's namesake.

_Let's fall in love  
Why shouldn't we fall in love  
Our hearts are made of it, let's take a chance  
Why be afraid of it?_

_Let's close our eyes  
And make our own paradise  
Little we know of it, still we can try  
To make a go of it_

The pair continued to move, the hypnotic grace of their earlier dance now evolving into a sensual charm that underlied the quick, percise steps. They orbited about the center of the dance floor, the other couples seeming to move off and give them space, as they continued to whirl about. Ike would, on occasion, lengthen his arm, sending Elincia into a twirl, and then draw her back to embrace her against his broad form. And, at times, Elincia would move within his grip, resting her cheek against his scuplted chest with a content grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

They were not the only pair to catch Lucia's attention. Given Rhys' reputation as frail and prone to sickness, she was surprised that Rhys could keep up with the ever-energetic Mia. More astounding still, he seemed to be enjoying himself. Zihark had coaxed a, very, breifly full Ilyana onto the floor and, while he was certainly a skilled Swordmaster, this grace and percision apparently had yet to translate into dancing skills. Boyd and Titania were on the dance floor again, Lucia idly wondered how many times they'd danced this evening, and while Boyd was competent it became obvious that Titania was the more skilled of the two.

Lucia's eyes darted back and forth between Ike and Titania, noting the similarities between their movements and feeling a grin tug at the corners of her mouth at the conclusion forming in her mind.

Despite her many, impossibly polite refusals, Gatrie had coaxed Astrid back onto the dance floor. This time, he took almost comical pains not to step on her feet, blushing profusely all the while.

_We might have been meant for each other  
To be or not to be, let our hearts discover_

_Let's fall in love  
Why shouldn't we fall in love?  
Now is the time for it, while we are young  
Let's fall in love_

As the song concluded, Ike whirled to arm's length of Elincia and pressed his lips against her fingers. Lucia, unseen by the happy pair, offered an approving nod and decided to invest some time in her next priority.

That being, food.

Sephiran, however, took this oppurtunity to make himself known once more.

"I have ten thousand gold pieces that says Titania was Ike's instructor in the waltz," he declared, challenge underlying his words. "Are you in?"

'Not with my salary,' Lucia mused derisively.

"I don't take sucker bets," she replied, having reached the same conclusion as Sephiran. "Much though I enjoy talking to you, my Lord Duke, and as much as I enjoyed this little romance, I was be going. The events of this evening have left me rather peckish."

Sephiran's reply was his customary, engimatic smile.

"Then," he began, "I expect you'll be wanting this back."

He sidestepped to his right and, in the space where he'd once been standing, was another figure holding the pastry laden plate she'd abandoned in her haste to follow Ike and Elincia to the grove.

"My personal aide, secretary, messanger and occasional partner is espionage, Angelo Vampa," Sephiran introduced. "His powers of observation readily compete with my own."

"As does my hearing," Vampa commented dryly after Lucia's stomach gave a furious rumble at the sight of the reclaimed feast.

Flushing slightly in embarrasment, she accepted the platter. As soon as she'd grasped it, the two men turned and walked off.

"I too must depart," Sephiran called over his shoulder. "Mia had a bettting pool going on the exact time Ike would propose and I must see if I won."

Lucia's only answer was a polite nod and, the instant the two men were out of sight, she tore into the pastries.

Forty five seconds later, a quite contented and throughlly full Lucia let the platter clatter to the ground, picked clean.

(End)

Ranulf: Well, Falchion1984 is still on the run from the torch bearing mob who's angry about him not having final exams, so I'll be reading this message he had smuggled here via the Chicago based Polish Mafia. *Reading the note* Well, I hope you guys liked that. At first, I thought to go straight to the wedding but then I had the idea of putting in some laughs via the Greil Mercenaries' reaction to the story and it'd been a while since Lucia saw some action. I also thought that Sephiran ought to have another moment of the acting the mysterious-man-who-knows-all-sorts-of-things-nobody-should-know persona that I favor for him. The story about ancient Senators and their games were inspired by a story I read back in High School called 'A Crown of Wild Olive' by Rosemary Stucliff. Sparing details, most of which I can't remember, it takes place in Greece during one of the ancient, perhaps even one of the first, Olympic Games where an Athenian boy and a Spartan boy compete in a series of contests in order to settle a dispute between their respective city states. So, for Sephiran, Ike is something out of an old history book. I hope that Sephiran's tirade, though long winded, was interesting. However, you may sense, as Lucia does, that something's missing from the picture…and you're right! Still, you'll have to wait a bit to find out what…or you can flip to the end of Chapter 1 of 'Divergence' and get a hint. Either way, please review and I'll see you when I elude the angry mob. Again, this is NOT the last Chapter. The next part will cover the wedding and an altercation with two of the guests, which will also serve to introduce my O.C Albert Dantes. When I get around to writing more FE9 fics, he will be an important figure. We will also see Geoffrey return and him confronting Lucia about her, essentially, inducing to go to Gallia so she could nudge Ike and Elincia together behind his back. As one can imagine, he is not pleased. Well, I hope to get those Chapters up soon and, again, please review. *Stops reading and stretches out* Well, I could use a vacation while he's gone so come back later. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.


	7. Chapter 7

*dead silence*

Ranulf: *snoring*

Mist: *snoring*

(Okay, so that's not dead silence. So, sue me!)

Falchion1984: *bursts into the room dressed like a Mafia reject and holding a tray of something covered in tin foil* I have returned! *pulls off the tinfoil to expose a platter of fried dumplings* And, I have brought these pierogis!

Ranulf & Mist: *wake up* Where the hell have you been? It's been forever since you've updated!

Falchion1984: I'd have been back sooner, but my Polish Mafia buddies went out for stogies.

Mist: *glancing at Ranulf in that what-did-we-do-to-deserve-this fashion* Did that make sense to you?

Ranulf: Of course not. *eats a pierogi* These aren't bad though.

Falchion1984: I hope you enjoy your treat and that I'll not miss another beat!

Mist: He's even stranger than usual...and that's saying something.

Falchion1984: My name, I hope, you shant revile, though I've been absent for a long while. Writing is challenging in this harsh time; and yes, I speak in rhyme.

Ranulf: *sarcastically* Gee, I hadn't noticed.

Falchion1984: This is the chapter that threatened to douse my fire; I encountered writer's block, which was most dire. For Ike seeks Elincia's hand, and the Council must approve. The Council, Ike fears, will be quick to reprove.

Mist: As far as rhymes go, that was a cheap shot.

Falchion1984: *impersonating Run DMC for no apparent reason* In New York the people talk to try and make us rhyme. They really (hawk) but we just (walk) because we have no time.

Mist: Huh?

Ranulf: *joining in on the Run DMC impersonation, also for no apparent reason* And in the city it's a pity cos we just can't hide. Tinted windows don't mean nothin,' they know who's inside.

Mist: What the-?

Falchion1984 & Ranulf: *still impersonating Run DMC, still for no apparent reason* It's Tricky to rock a rhyme to rock a rhyme that's right on time. It's tricky.

Mist: *Eyes the pierogis suspiciously* What's in those things anyway? Well, why don't you guys read the chapter while I try to figure this out. If that's even possible. Also, Falchion1984 does not own Fire Emblem (Thank the Goddess) or It's Tricky. And, credit for the base of Elincia's dress goes to Ganieda_91, who posted an Ike+Elincia pic on (.com/albums/ii294/Ganieda_91/?action=view¤t;=). Falchion started with the design as a base and then modified it for Elincia's whacky wedding gown. Also, this chapter will bounce around a lot between Ike and Elincia's perspectives, both in the present and in flashbacks, so pay attention. On with the show!

(Elincia, present)

"I wonder if the pearls are too much," Elincia thought aloud, scrutinizing her reflection.

She ran her fingers over the chains of ivory globes encircling her neck and wondered. Ike, she knew, attached great value to modesty of word and action, perhaps extending to taste in dress and she had toyed with the notion in showing similar restraint when she could. But, at the same time, Ike had become rather fond of pointing out how beautiful he thought she was, despite her protestations, so he might like the effect.

And, besides, they were her mother's pearls.

Elincia had seen her mother even less frequently than her father, and the nearest thing she could recall to seeing her mother's face was standing in front of a mirror while her uncle pointed to her features and told her which aspect of her face and form came from which parent.

Silly though the notion might seem, she felt as if wearing the same pearls her mother had during her wedding might be akin to taking along a piece of her, and the joy she'd had with her father, as she made the same journey.

But, the chance that the old fibers binding them might give way or the well used clasp could unexpectedly loosen - and she might lose this treasure to opportunistic hands - teased at the back of her mind as well.

She stroked the pearls again, considering removing them, but her hands were far too shaky to handle the delicate clasp. Instead, she focused on willing air back into her spasming lungs as she took in her reflection. Not for the first time that day, she found herself awed by the sight. At Lucia's insistence, Elincia had allowed her Courtier and lifelong friend to find the appropriate dress or, should none of those available pass inspection, to commission one to be custom made.

Elincia suspected the latter, for surely this design was too fanciful to come from anything besides Lucia's devious imagination.

Rather than the traditional white, her gown was a work of orange and gold that reminded her of the dawning sun. Folds of radiantly colored fabric enshrouded her form and spilled to the floor stopping just short of her ankles, complimented by a shawl of red, yellow and green draped over her shoulders. Aside from the pearls encompassing her throat, she also wore a pair of golden, teardrop earrings - 'drops of sunshine,' as the jeweler had dubbed them - and a peculiar headdress. She'd heard from Lucia that it was the product of a lost, recently recovered, art and that Serenes Herons were known to wear something similar at their weddings. Whether or not this was true, Elincia could not say; but the odd honeycomb of golden cloth bled tendrils of her emerald hair while loops of ruby fabric fanned above her head like the tail feathers of a peacock. She wore very little makeup, the flush that came from both the upcoming event and her newfound realizations about the dress' plunging neckline lent her face all the color she could possibly want. And more. Matching the coloration of her face were the blood red heels that boosted her height to match Ike's.

Anyone would say that she looked spectacular, a vision poised to humble the comeliest of angels.

Anyone except Elincia herself.

"I wonder if this neckline is inappropriate," she pondered - or fretted, for she could not tell which. "Perhaps if I adjusted the shawl...no, that will not do. It would cover the pearls that way."

"You sound nervous," a familiar voice commented.

Elincia gasped and whirled in the direction of the door to behold a smirking Lucia. Her aqua haired friend, to Elincia's umbrage, had dressed herself far less elaborately in a more formal incarnation of the kimono favored by Swordmasters. This one, adorned with a silk bow elegantly tied about the waist and embroidered with patterns of sakura blossoms, coupled beauty and functionality into a perfect synthesis that made Elincia suddenly wonder if she could talk Lucia into exchanging clothes.

Discarding the notion, and sensing the playful taunt behind the words, Elincia turned towards the mirror and composed her features into a cool mask of determination that, even to her forgiving eyes, looked unconvincing.

"I'm not nervous," she declared, her tone even less convincing than her expression.

In an instant, her stony facade crumbled into a wild mishmash of uncontrollable excitement and inconsolable panic.

"I'm terrified," Elincia squeaked.

Lucia, her ever present smirk disappearing, crossed the dressing room and rested a hand on Elincia's shoulder.

"Relax," she urged, the corners of her mouth turning back upwards. "This will be the happiest day of your life. And, probably, the happiest night as well."

"Lucia!" Elincia exclaimed, thoroughly startled by the thinly veiled insinuation.

"Oh, come now," Lucia replied, snickering. "It's not as if I haven't noticed all those near infidelities you and Ike have had. You're just lucky it was the forgiving ones that caught you in the-"

"What?" Elincia screeched, her eyes narrowing to sunbeam daggers. "We've never been indecent!...Except...well, perhaps..."

Elincia trailed off, embarrassment deepening the red hue of her cheeks. Lucia, seeing the opening, struck. Hard.

"Well," she began teasingly, pretending to be considering it, "there was that one time in your bedchambers."

Elincia remembered that time, quite well in fact. And, though doing so only made Lucia's smugness grow, Elincia smiled at the memory.

i_(Elincia, flashback)_

_It was the morning after the Festival, which had lasted well into the dawning hours, and Elincia had woken groggy and lethargic. Though tired and largely asleep, a small smile graced her features as she remembered a wonderful dream she'd had. She and Ike had had their long overdue talk and, to her astonishment, he'd asked her to marry him. She'd gladly accepted, he'd given her a magnificent engagement ring and then they'd danced until the sun came up. The rest was rather hazy but Elincia could dimly recall Ike saying that she was too exhausted to walk all the way back to the Castle and, so saying, he carried her there._

_ It was a good dream, one she would cherish as she bore yet another torturous day of nursing her fragile country back to health, but it was only a dream._

_ For surely, that's all it could be in the often harsh and unforgiving world._

_ Then, she felt a familiar, worn hand caressing her hip._

_ Her weariness forgotten, her eyes shot open. As the drowsy haze of early morning cleared from her eyes, she beheld Ike seated at her bedside smiling down on her with that rakish smile she'd come to adore. Wondering sleepily if she was entirely awake, she brought one hand to rub at her eyes and found her ring finger encompassed by a familiar, silvery band. And, she realized that it hadn't been a dream at all. And, in that same instant, she remembered something the two of them had learned during the War._

_ The world was a harsh and unforgiving place, but there was much in it that was precious if one looked hard enough._

_ Ike too looked to have passed a restless night - a faint smudge painting the flesh beneath each eye - but he looked glowingly happy, and Elincia did not ask for details._

_ In fact, she didn't say anything at all. He didn't either._

_ After last night, words were no longer necessary._

_ Ike's hand continued to sweep across her hip, the warmth of his rough hand easily seeping through the thin material of her nightclothes. Very easily, in fact. Elincia quickly glanced down at herself and saw that, in her half asleep state, she'd donned the lighter nightclothes which she favored in the warmer seasons._

_ It exposed her legs from mid-thigh downwards as well as her arms, and the slightly sheer red material offered more than a hint of the skin beneath._

_ A self-conscious blush painted her features at her state of dress, but Ike banished those thoughts by cupping her chin with one hand. His expression was still glowingly happy and, beneath it, Elincia could sense the gentility which had surprised them both the night before. His hands, the flesh rough and calloused from years of swordplay and a lifetime of work, gingerly caressed the soft, smooth skin of her cheeks. A sigh of contentment escaped Elincia's lips as her smaller, more delicate hands began to roam his face as well._

_ Ike's features all bespoke of his life as if his face were a tapestry in which one might find the many aspects of his life meticulously woven. His flesh was weathered by the wrath of sun and wind, burned dark and engraved with the fine lines she'd have expected to find on the countenance of an older man. Rather than age, however, these lines bespoke of experience and determination and they shone on his face like medals of honor, even if Ike himself would deny anything resembling the grandiose metaphor. Some of these lines ran parallel to or were bisected by scars from near misses during his battles as a Mercenary and later a General. There was, she suspected, a story behind every mark and, she felt fairly certain, she'd been close enough to witness at least half of them._

_ Ike, in turn, continued to explore her face and his fingers occasionally strayed into her hair. The feel of his fingers parting her sea of emerald tresses prompted another sigh from Elincia and, for some time, that was the only sound between them. Eventually, Ike leaned in closer and one hand disengaged from her face to sweep across her exposed upper back. Rubbing at her shoulders, and eliciting shuddering gasps from her in doing so, he brought her closer to him. Eventually, the rough stubble of his jaw rubbed against Elincia's face, summoning a light giggle. Ike, chuckling in turn, guided his hands to Elincia's arms, tracing the smooth flesh of her forearms and her finely boned hands. Elincia's tenure as a chef and healer during the War had left its mark on her hands, as had swordplay and the strain of riding when she took the field, but far less so than Ike. Calluses and scars - so tiny, she had to squint in order to see them - marred her delicate hands but, when she extricated one to rub Ike's cheek, he very nearly purred._

_ Elincia's other hand roamed his torso, cresting the rock hard domes of his muscles, his broad chest and his wide shoulders while he returned his attention to the delicate curve of her hip. Somehow, Ike had leaned too far forward and ended up toppling onto the bed. He managed to catch himself by quickly planting his hands and knees to stop his descent before he landed on top of her. An instant's distress passed as he realized what nearly happened, but it quickly faded as he noted Elincia's expression, devoid of reproach._

_ A smile that was an impossible blend of roguishness and shyness sliced across Ike's features as he gently lowered himself, propping himself on elbows and knees and then scooting so close to Elincia that they could feel each other's breath on their faces._

_ Effectively but happily pinned, Elincia contented herself with running her hands through Ike's unruly hair while he did the same with her long, emerald tresses. For what felt like hours, Elincia lay there reveling in Ike's warmth, his gentle touch and the faint aroma of the spicy cologne he'd worn the previous evening. The joy that had flooded her veins when she realized that Ike's proposal was no dream surged anew and her arms encircled his form in a tight hug._

_ And, in that moment, her life was perfect._

_ In the next, Lucia nudged the door open. Her hands were rather completely occupied bearing a tray laden with food - far more than Elincia could've consumed in one sitting, which suggested Lucia was expecting Ike to be there. And, Lucia's face was rather thoroughly occupied with sporting a broad, beaming grin._

_ She no doubt had intended to ambush the newly engaged couple, and have some fun at their expense, but when she saw the rather questionable position she'd discovered them in, her smile turned upside down and the tray clattered to the floor wreaking havoc upon the room's ornate carpet._

_ It had been no easy task to convince the angered Lucia that nothing compromising had occurred and, though she eventually came around, she muttered something to Ike about castration and rusty spoons._/i

(Elincia, present)

"I've told you a dozen times," Elincia very nearly hissed in aggravation, "he didn't harm me. Quite the opposite in fact. I felt much better afterwards."

"I noticed," Lucia replied, her tone somewhere between matter-of-fact and wry.

This, Elincia could not contest. Though she would've gladly stayed in Ike's arms for days, there was another Council meeting and, since Caineghis and Tanith would likely attend this one also, her absence would not go over well. Elincia, apology written on her features, slid out from under Ike and found her customary gown. Ike, realizing her intent, turned to study the rack upon which rested Elincia's armor.

For some reason, which even she couldn't make sense of, a well hidden part of herself was slightly disappointed at this gentlemanly gesture.

Shaking herself free of the bizarre sentiment, and the subsequent embarrassment, she finished dressing herself and beckoned Ike to follow.

Just at the door, they'd kissed.

They broke away, most reluctantly and with no small amount of mortification, when Lucia returned to remind them of the meeting, caught them in the act and muttered something to the effect of 'I can't leave you alone for a minute.'

"There was also that time in the Castle Inner Garden," Lucia spoke up.

Elincia's face colored at the memory, even more so than the previous one. After all, Lucia i_had_/i mentioned that her and Ike's transgressions had not gone unnoticed.

i_(Elincia, flashback)_

_It had been two days since Ike's proposal and, aside from Ike's slipping into her bedroom to greet her as he had before, they'd had little time for each other. There were the Council Meetings, which Ike now attended in order for him and Elincia to petition for their marriage; but time to be alone, and forget the rest of the world for a precious while, had been quite scarce._

_ Ike, deciding to do something about it, suggested that they train in the more open portion of the Castle Inner Garden. _

_ Elincia needed no further invitation._

_ Not a half hour after Ike first made the suggestion, the two faced each other armed with wooden training swords. Ike, inevitably, wore his traditional Mercenary garb, the wind teasing at his red cloak and headband. Elincia had donned her armor and had tied her hair back into a tight, functional bun. Elincia had forsworn using her Pegasus for these duels; it would've taken too long to tack up and move the beast into place, and Elincia felt she ought to be prepared to fight on foot if need be._

_ Peace had settled over Crimea, but the country had learned that the quickest way to lose peace was to take it for granted._

_ Ike, Elincia knew, was far too strong for her to overpower but she did have the advantage of agility which could win her the day. Ike, however, was clearly aware of this as well. Whenever Elincia's blade sought to thrust through some perceived gap in his defense, his training sword would whirl to smack her blade away with a frustrating thunk. And, to couple one frustration with another, Ike was swift to retaliate. His blows were powerful, Elincia could only guide them away from her or dodge them before skittering to one side to try and strike before Ike could react. In a burst of energy, she leapt to the side, ducking under a slice from Ike, launched herself into a forward roll and regained her feet to lunge at Ike's back._

_ Or, at least, it was_ /i_supposed_i_ to be Ike's back._

_Ike had apparently deduced her intent and had whirled to meet her, but he'd been a split second too slow to bring up his sword. Elincia, her momentum too great to stop her lunge, could only brace herself as she crashed into Ike's broad form. Ike gasped at the impact and staggered back a few paces but did not falter, his hands catching hold of Elincia. Flushed from both the exertion and the impact, Elincia could only let out a breath of relief which was quickly choked away when she noticed the minute distance between her and Ike's faces. One of the pair, Elincia could not recall whom specifically, crossed that distance and their lips met._

_ In an instant, their duel was forgotten. The training swords clattered to the ground from hands that had sprung open to caress perspiring flesh while arms snaked about shoulders and backs to press their forms tighter against each other. Their hands roamed one another's faces, exploring the slick flesh of their cheeks and the airy strands of their hair. Elincia, in an act of daring that surprised her more than it did Ike, thrust her tongue across the threshold of their melded lips, exploring his mouth and letting her taste buds be overwhelmed by him. Ike was only too quick to reciprocate._

_ It had been one of those far too rare moments when the two of them could be alone, could be themselves and could be together without the grave responsibilities dangling over them threatening to despoil the moment. However, the newly engaged couple was far less alone than their blissful dispositions led them to believe. The myriad corridors connecting Castle Crimea's keep to the outer walls and towers were still under repair and thus the foot traffic between these structures had been diverted into the Castle Garden._

_ And, those forced to take this detour had quite an amusing sight to behold, making the delay much easier to tolerate._/i

(Elincia, present)

"That was...," Elincia murmured, trying vainly to cover her reddening face. "That was entirely accidental."

"Really?" Lucia asked, somewhat skeptically. "I myself would've thought that you and Ike would be...rather spontaneous in your affections."

This too, the furiously blushing Elincia could not contest. After nearly three years of being so close and yet so far away from Ike, finally having him had caused her arduously smothered feelings for him to roar to life. His presence in her bedchambers, though hardly intercourse, had overwhelmed her senses and set her blood afire with a passion beyond any of the spectacular fantasies she'd had of what it would be like if he stayed. The texture of his sun kissed face, the scratching of his rough stubble, the feel of his well muscled form against hers washed over her in a sea of passionate affection that drowned out the rest of the world and left her craving more.

Craving more and wanting to go further.

It still startled her that she and Ike could so easily lose themselves in the presence of one another, as their near-miss in her bedchambers had shown. In fact, it was perhaps for the best that Lucia came in before they could get out of control. The thought of what might've happened otherwise still hovered about Elincia, teasing at her thoughts the way Ike had teased at her cheeks with his hands. Though the indelibly modest Ike was likely oblivious to the effect he had on her, Elincia was well aware of it.

It was frightening.

It was exciting.

It was irresistible.

"And, also-," Lucia began once more before Elincia cut her off.

"Alright, alright!" Elincia groused. "You've made your point. I suppose I have been...less-than-restrained with Ike."

That was a bit of an understatement and she knew it. Still, it was not something she could help and, in truth, she wouldn't have even if she could. More than the warmth of Ike's overwhelming compassion and the eruptions of passion in her own being that finally and forever melted the frost of dread that had once chilled her inside and out, the moments they stole from the Reconstruction and courtly affairs to be together had gifted her with both a vitality and contentment for which there was truly no parallel.

After years of her being secreted away like some jewel or other bauble to avoid a possible blood feud and months spent keeping afloat the unstable ship of state while he had spent nearly three years leading troops into battle and cutting down men by the hundreds to end a war he could just as easily have avoided altogether...after so much pain and sacrifice, their time together had offered them a chance to get something back.

And, after today, the bonds they'd forged so long ago would be made eternal.

She was shaken back to the present when she heard the door burst open. She turned in time to see an indigo blur barrel into her, nearly knocking her clean off her feet, and felt two arms envelop her in a tight hug. Elincia hardly needed to look to see who it was; after all the time they'd spent together, she'd know Mist anywhere.

Elincia pulled back from their embrace to look over her future sister-in-law. Mist, rather like Elincia herself, looked a touch self-conscious in her formal garb. Ike's younger sister had chosen to wear an indigo dress, of a color and style she'd said her mother had been fond of. The dress sported a low neckline, offering a hint of Mist's burgeoning bosom, as well as exposing a portion of the back. Elbow length gloves enshrouded her forearms, toned from her time as a Mercenary and yet still retaining a feminine shapeliness. Finally, her conspicuously longer brown hair was coiled into an elegant braid, secured by an ivory hair-clip styled after a butterfly, while two loose tendrils framed her delicate face.

As Elincia had noted during the Festival, Mist was no longer the tomboyish girl she'd met those nearly three years ago. Elegantly dressed, her face and hair immaculately made up, she looked like a mature, regal young woman.

A young woman who made her living riding horses and killing Bandits with her sword.

Inwardly snickering at the idiosyncrasy, Elincia noted a detail that caught her eye. In the place long occupied by Lehran's Medallion, was another amulet. This one, however, was styled after a nesting Serenes Heron suspended from her neck on a silvery chain. Mist idly fingered the amulet, allowing Elincia to see that it had a clasp on one side and tiny hinges on the other, which distinguished it as a locket.

"You look wonderful," Elincia complimented, eliciting a blush from Mist.

"Thank you Elincia," Mist replied, a smirk crossing her features. "And, you look incredible. Ike's jaw is going to hit the floor when he sees you."

"Along with everyone else's," Elincia quipped, her tone somewhere between amused and nervous. "I'm still worried that this dress is...inappropriate."

"Oh, don't be," Mist contradicted. "You look ravishing."

Elincia smiled, touched by Mist's unwavering kindness, though she was nonetheless hesitant to agree with her younger friend's assessment. She took another critical look at her reflection, again toying with the idea of covering her shoulders. Her train of thought was cut off when Mist clasped her hand.

"Don't worry," she reassured. "Ike loves you, he won't care about the dress."

Here, a wicked grin sliced across Mist's features and a low chuckle parted her lips.

"If he does," she began, muffled giggles punctuating her words, "it'll probably be because he'll want you even more."

"Mist!" Elincia gasped, shocked at the implication.

Mist's only response was to burst into laughter, summoning still more blood to Elincia's cheeks. Her blush, finally, faded when she realized something.

Ike had rescued her from the aftermath of her disastrous exodus on Capital Way.

Even after discovering she was a Princess, he did not treat her as a bauble or someone he could exploit for wealth.

He had been her friend, her confidant and her support in the dark days of the War, and had been more than willing to let her support him in turn.

He was a common Mercenary while she was the daughter of a King, yet he hadn't cared.

If Ike didn't care about the disparity in their ranks, why would a dress bother him?

And, perhaps, if he was so convinced that she was beautiful, maybe there was something to it.

"I suppose I should count myself fortunate," Elincia thought aloud. "The men in the Company probably teased Ike mercilessly about the wedding."

"Saying which, how are the in-laws?" Lucia asked, unable to suppress a smirk.

"Well," Mist began, "Shinon is still wondering why he has to come. Soren is likely reading in a corner somewhere. Gatrie's probably flirting with Astrid, and I think she actually likes him. Oscar is catching up with Tanith, I think she's going to visit the Fort for those cooking lessons Oscar promised her. Boyd's been spending a lot of time with Titania; I have no idea why since they've always been arguing about him slacking off. Ilyana's here for the food, but what else is new? Zihark is keeping her out of trouble. Mia, apparently, is the sort to cry at weddings and Rhys is trying to comfort her. As for Rolf..."

Here, Mist trailed off, once more idly fingering her Heron locket as her lips curved into a small smile.

"He gave you that, didn't he?" Elincia asked, already knowing the answer.

Mist nodded, her smile broadening.

"He can be such a sweetie at times," she replied. "I was worried about him during the War, afraid that he was turning hard. I actually tried to get him to stop joining in the battles, I was so worried then, but he wouldn't have it. We did talk it over though, and I think it did us both a lot of good. Neither of us really like the fighting, but it does feel good to be helping out the others instead of waiting at the Fort worrying about them."

"I'm glad, and I wish you two all the best," Elincia answered, finally getting a blush out of Mist. "By the way, how is Ike?"

"He's fine," Mist replied, her tone turning sly. "He misses you."

Elincia let out a breathy sigh as Mist worked to hold in another gale of laughter.

"I think he's having more trouble getting dressed for the wedding than you," Mist commented, still more laughter bubbling up.

"That reminds me," Lucia piped in. "I checked in his dressing room a minute ago, why does it smell like sea water in there?"

In an instant, Elincia's prior embarrassment was forgotten as Lucia's question summoned a fond memory that seemed so long ago; and yet which she recalled with such clarity that it may as well have happened yesterday. Even amidst the horrors of war, the long marches and the terrible battles, hints of light poked through the dark veil illuminating many tiny jewels of precious joy and laughter amidst the tumult of chaos and death.

And, it would seem that one of those jewels had been uncovered a second time.

Unable to defend against it, gales of laughter burst from Elincia's lips, promptly joined by Mist's giggles.

"On second thought," Lucia commented, largely to herself, "I don't want to know."

(Ike, present)

Ike was mad.

He rubbed at his hair with a heated towel, with a great deal more force than was required, hoping to dry out his hair as quickly as possible.

He was rather eager to be with Elincia, and to get away from the Royal Seamstress.

Ike had made acquaintance with the elderly, but still formidable woman who served as Royal Seamstress almost immediately upon the announcement of his engagement to Elincia. Or, she had made his acquaintance at her own insistence. Ike couldn't tell which. Either way, she'd made herself an inescapable presence during the days leading up to the wedding. At least once a day since then - at least - she'd ambush him and i_insist_/i that he was needed for fitting. And, during these sessions, she'd employ a nonsensical number of pins and needles and seemed as if she were deliberately pricking him.

She denied anything of the sort but, forty eight pricks and a dozen rashes later, Ike didn't believe a word of it.

His most recent encounter with her had been the most trying on his, admittedly, limited patience. It had been that morning and - barred from seeing Elincia over some superstition about it being bad luck for brides and grooms to see each other before the wedding, and Ike himself being far too excited to sit and wait - he had elected to spar. Boyd, never one to turn down a spar, had joined him. In the middle of a devastating riposte, which would've sent Boyd flying across the Courtyard, Ike suddenly felt a hand twisting his ear in a very painful fashion.

He could literally feel the blood draining out of his face as his assailant identified herself.

After a rather screechy lecture about how he shouldn't be exerting himself so when he needed to be clean for the wedding, some very nearly screamed complaints about how difficult it was to find him, a rather high pitched reprimand about forcing an old woman to traipse about the Castle searching for him instead of him coming to her and some much too loud commentary about the need to finalize his clothing for the wedding, she had dragged him by the ear to the dressing room.

By the sound of it, Boyd had very nearly died of laughter at the sight.

Ike suspected the Royal Seamstress was finding his predicament amusing as well. After they'd reached the dressing room, and long before the pain in Ike's ear had subsided, she demanded that he disrobe. She also gave no indication of turning around.

"I've been married for forty five years, I have nine children and fifty grandchildren...at last count," she informed him, with a coyness he'd have expected out of a younger woman. "You don't have anything I haven't seen before."

Embarrassed, chagrined and liking the eccentric woman less and less by the minute, Ike reluctantly complied. He soon regretted it when the elderly woman very nearly hurled him into a tub of scalding hot water and began rubbing him down, so hard his skin still felt raw, with a coarse brush and soaps of such strong aroma that they made him gag.

Ike tried, with only partial success, to guide his mind away from his less-than-pleasant appointment with the Royal Seamstress.

Naturally, his mind wandered to Elincia.

The time Ike and Elincia had to be together since the Festival, despite the distressingly frequent interruptions, had been brief but happy. And, despite his dire predicament, recalling those moments caused the corners of Ike's mouth to turn upwards.

i_(Ike, flashback)_

_Though Elincia was unaware of it, Ike had slipped into her bedchambers long before she had awoken and noticed him. After Ike had carried Elincia to the Royal Bedchambers, Lucia had appeared and coyly suggested that he reside in one of the Guest Chambers. She'd gone on to say that such was far preferable to hiking all the way back to the Mercenary Fort or the Inns within Melior - which were, assuredly, filled to bursting with people sleeping off the festivities of mere hours ago._

_ "After all," Lucia quipped, a sly undertone seeping into her voice, "you_ /i_are_/i _going to be spending a lot of time here in the future."_

_ What little fatigue Ike felt was swiftly forgotten at these words, his gaze snapping in Lucia's direction and his eyes bulging. Lucia's only response had been a sly smile and a joking reprimand for the newly engaged couple's neglecting to seek her out and share the happy news. Ike had been, more out of instinct than anything else, bracing himself for censure from Elincia's Courtier but found none in her mirthful features as they arrived at the Guest Chambers. Puzzled, but relieved, Ike returned her smile and fell into step behind her as she rounded the corner and opened a door of ornately carved oak._

_ The room, inevitably, was too lavish for Ike's liking. Marble pillars affixed with gold ornamentations lined the walls to support a high, vaulted ceiling from which dangled a gilded chandelier of elaborate craftsmanship. Tapestries depicting land and cityscapes of yesteryears lined the walls while a thick red carpet with a golden trim acted as a buffer against the chill of the stone floor. A well padded chair sat next to a small hearth while a bookcase, a dresser, a desk and a four-poster bed rounded out the opulent scene. Ike tried to keep a cringe from his features; he'd had experience with beds like the one he'd just been offered during his stay in Begnion. The goose feather mattresses seemed to behave like quicksand whenever he lay on one, prompting him to make his bedding on the floor._

_"I know this isn't to your taste," Lucia spoke up, apparently having noted Ike's discomfiture._

_ "Don't worry, I've slept in worse," Ike replied, trying to figure out if he was referring to the mud puddles in the Sea of Trees, the quicksand like mattresses in Mainal Cathedral or the hammocks on Nasir's ship that occasionally dumped him to the deck._

_ Lucia nodded, her expression somewhere between relief and apology but still edged with mirth, while Ike made the most of his lodgings. The bed proved more bearable than Ike had expected, and he found himself doubting that Lucia guiding him here was coincidental. But, try though Ike did, he simply could not sleep that night. Joy and anxiety alike overwhelmed his fatigue and, before he could stop himself, he was already dressed and striding towards the Royal Bedchambers._

_ What he beheld upon entry stole his breath away._

_Elincia was fast asleep, hardly surprising since she'd been dancing almost the entire night. Her brow was slick with perspiration; again, hardly surprising during such a hot summer. She slumbered on a handsome, four-poster bed that could easily accommodate five women her size, its curtains of emerald silk flung open and its heavy blue sheets enshrouding her in a range of azure mountains rising and falling with her breath._

_ The bed, however, was far less interesting than its occupant._

_ Even sound asleep and soaked with sweat from the humidity, Elincia looked radiant._

_ The exertion of the_ /iDemosthenei _still colored her cheeks a wonderful scarlet and her hair, much longer out of its customary bun, cascaded to her waist in a waterfall of woven jade. The hints of dawn from the expansive window behind the bed painted her features with the colors of the sun, lending a nigh-angelic glow to her features. A small smile graced her lips, and Ike could not help but suspect that it had been brought about by the events of the previous evening._

_After nearly two years of making her worry - and, perhaps, even making her cry - all without realizing it, it felt good to finally be making her happy instead._

_ Gazing down at her slumbering form, and aware that he'd soon be sharing this room with her if all went well, he let his eyes drink in her beauty. He'd always known, even when he'd found her unconscious on Capital Way so long ago, that she was beautiful; but, it was as if before he'd only seen her through fogged eyes._

_ Now, he was truly seeing her. Radiant. Happy. At peace. And, in love._

_The two had been constant shadows to one another during the War, flittering before and behind each other as carnage and terror roiled around them. They had touched each other, for the briefest of instants, sharing each other's burdens and strengths that they might survive. They had spoken - whispers and rambling conversation, too often cut short by the relentless War - and yet those whispers had been clarion notes of hope and compassion amidst the trials and the tears. And, in those few touches and those few words, so much had passed between them. Sympathy, empathy, warmth, connection, dependence, respect, admiration, camaraderie, friendship and other convoluted emotions that neither could name haloed each shadow and, like the ambiguous half-light of dusk, it veiled what was burgeoning between the two of them for so long._

_ But, no longer._

_ Looking at her now - remembering what she'd gone through without his knowledge and what they'd committed themselves to mere hours ago - Ike could not help but wonder how he'd let so much time pass by when what mattered most to him had been so close at hand and waiting - _ipiningi _- for him._

_He shook himself back to the present. His unwitting neglect had hurt her, had pained her greatly and needlessly, but she had recovered and forgiven him._

_ And, some inner voice told him that it was time that he forgave himself too._

_ Gently - very gently, so that his love would not be roused - he pulled the heavy sheets off of her. What was underneath surprised him. He'd long since known that Elincia was very shy and, even in this hot season, it struck him that she'd don nightwear that was so...minimal._

_ Not that he was complaining, of course._

_ He let his hand glide over her hip, the light red silk of her nightdress smooth and slick beneath his rough hand, feeling the delicate curve and the warmth of her flesh. Unable to defend against the impulse, and doubting he'd have fought it in any event, he leaned in kissed her on the cheek._

_She stirred then, her bleary golden orbs fluttering open. She saw him, her smile broadened, and life was perfect. _

_ At least, it was until Lucia barged in._/i

(Ike, present)

"Let me guess," a familiar and loathed voice quipped, shaking Ike out of his reminiscence. "You're getting impatient for the big night."

Ike's eyes, which had drooped shut, shot open. Much to his dismay, he was still in the tub of scalding water with the eccentric Royal Seamstress scrubbing him down in an agonizing fashion. Ike still felt warm; and, he knew it wasn't from the water.

He also knew that, given both the nature of his thoughts and the nuances of the male anatomy, that that warmth traveled to...troublesome places.

A quick glance downward confirmed the worst, obviating what had prompted the Royal Seamstress' discourteous question. Blushing right to the tops of his ears, Ike crossed his legs and seethed.

"Oh, come now!" the eccentric woman chided. "You think this is the first time I've seen a young man having it bad for a young woman. Oh, no. Quite the opposite, in fact. Why, I could tell you stories."

So saying, the Royal Seamstress went into a torturously long and obscenely detailed account of the many, i_many_/i romantic escapades of herself, her children and of those of her grandchildren old enough to take an interest in the opposite sex. By the time she'd finished an account of her twenty seventh granddaughter's first boyfriend, who also happened to be dating her thirteenth and twenty first granddaughters, Ike was convinced that the rest of the copiously large family was as bad as the Royal Seamstress herself.

When she went into another account about a clearly unfortunate girl in the dire predicament of having the simultaneous attentions of ten of her grandsons, Ike decided to once more direct his thoughts elsewhere.

And, again, 'elsewhere' meant Elincia.

i_(Ike, flashback)_

_As Ike and Elincia reluctantly separated from their kiss, after Lucia had ambushed them for the second time that morning, the absence of her warmth against his form chilled him like the Daein winter. Though neither of them had spoken of it before now - though they had purposefully avoided discussing it during the blissful events of the previous evening and of mere moments ago - both knew this moment had been approaching. Ike had even been planning for it and, he suspected, Elincia had too._

_ But that hadn't made it any less daunting._

_ The two of them left the Bedchambers, Elincia volunteering to go first and ensure there was no one lurking in the corridors to spy them and leap to the wrong conclusions. Seeing no one in the corridor, Ike followed and the couple strode to the Council Hall, Lucia preceding them by some distance. There was, as Lucia had informed them after cutting short their rendezvous for the second time, a meeting of the Council scheduled for that morning. Geoffrey had already left for the Officer Exchange Program, Reginald's goldsmith friend had not yet arrived yet to determine the currency exchange rate and the motions for the troop redeployments and the food trade had already been approved and sealed. Thus, this Council Meeting was likely to be less-than-eventful. It would, the newly engaged couple hoped, be the right time to inform the Council of their intent to wed. _

_ That, however, was not a meeting that he'd been looking forward too._

_ Though Ike was no less determined to marry Elincia, a determination he could see reflected in her sharply focused gaze, he held no illusions about who it was that he'd be talking to. In Mainal Cathedral, when he'd presented Elincia to Sanaki, the Apostle had made it quite clear what people like her, and them, thought of people like him._

/i"Hmm...," Sanaki had snorted derisively, seemingly unimpressed with Ike's vouch for Elincia's character. "If someone of...proper standing made that pronouncement, I would accept it as irrefutable proof. But you... You're a commoner. You have no surname, no documented linage...You have nothing. I know commoners. They are poor. For a price, they will support any lie, no matter how outlandish."i

_Ike felt his blood boil with rage as if lava had been poured into the still fresh wounds from the battle in which he and his Mercenaries had saved the haughty Apostle's life. When he learned that the entire display had been a sham, a diversion for Sanaki's own amusement, Ike had just about exploded._

_ Though the two of them had made an effort to reconcile - after Ike had seen the Apostle's more honorable side in her taking responsibility for the Serenes Massacre and Sanaki having been impressed by Ike's aid in rescuing Reyson and Leanne - Ike could not keep his eyes from narrowing nor his jaw from clenching whenever Sanaki came into view._

_ The Council, he suspected, would regard his entreaty to marry Elincia with even greater disdain and condescension._

_ Ike could bear their laughter and their thumbing their noses at him, and would do so gladly for Elincia, but he knew that a repeat performance of the incident with Sanaki would not help his case, and might even drive a wedge between Elincia and the rest of her fragile government._

_ And, though he could bear it if he had to, the prospect of having those pompous aristocrats staring down their noses at him was hardly a pleasing prospect._

_ He could hear their derisive snorts already, and that imagined sound sent blood pounding in his ears like thunder. He could see their sneers as well, and the illusionary sight made his fists clench until the leather of his gloves squealed in protest._

_ A hand clasped his shoulder and, with shocking suddenness, his anger was snuffed out like a candle. _

_ "Don't worry," Elincia reassured, obviously catching his thought. "I have faith that the Council will see that you're a man of honor; everyone who knows you knows that. If they can't see past the difference of birth, it's their loss. And, I pity them for it."_

_ As was often the case, Elincia seemed to radiate compassion and the gaze she fixed upon him was patient and understanding. The grimace which had been etched into Ike's face at the prospect of the impending meeting slowly smoothed away._

_ Ike let his gaze drift in the direction of the Council Hall, the ornate double doors opening wide to admit Lucia and then snapping shut like jaws. He shook off the unpleasant imagery and, arduously suppressing his hot sentiments regarding who he was about to meet, pondered the impending conference. Since rebuilding houses and hunting Ashnard Loyalists had always seemed more important to Ike then reading reports to a room full of bureaucrats, this was rather difficult._

_ And, this uncertainty only added to the frustration burgeoning at the prospect of their reaction._

_ Forcing away the image, Ike willed himself to calm down, to clear his mind of presumptions, and thought over what he knew about the Council members._

_ Geoffrey, he knew, was on his way to Gallia and would not participate in this deliberation. Which was just as well; it was doubtful Geoffrey would condone something so unheard-of as a common Mercenary marrying a Queen._

_ Lucia would be there and, Ike suspected, she would readily support them. After having calmed down after discovering Ike and Elincia in their questionable position that morning, Lucia had whispered in his ear that she wanted him to take good care of Elincia. And, this Ike would do._

_ Bastian would be present as well, though Ike found the loquacious Count a hard man to decipher. His thespian speech, naturally, contributed to that. Bastian, however, had seen Ike's worth first hand during the War and, hopefully, that would count for something._

_ Silok, like most young men, was hard to predict. Even younger at heart than he was in body, Silok was eager to be of help and even more so to ingratiate himself with his elders. Ike had only spoken to him once, but Silok had seemed very nearly admiring._

_ Reginald and Ike had met a few times the War, and Reginald clearly thought highly of Ike. And, since Reginald was born a peasant and granted a title, like Ike himself, it might conjure feelings of empathy in the flirtatious Lord. _

_ Gervain, also, was difficult to predict since he was such a quiet man. Still, Ike doubted Gervain would be inclined to do him any favors. The incident at Port Toha during the War - which Ike had triggered by blowing their cover in his attempt to rescue Ranulf from the mob - had been a source of great embarrassment for Gervain and Toha as a whole._

_ Caldaur was another likely source of support. Caldaur was a regular client of the Greil Mercenaries, before and after the War, and was known to praise them glowingly for their efforts and skill._

_ And, finally, there was La Roche. From what Ike could tell, La Roche's foremost loyalty was to himself and, whichever way he decided, it would be the first step on a subtle plan which would end with him as the sole beneficiary._

_ This meant, assuming Ike's assessments were right, that five of the seven attending Council members might back him. That was more - a great deal more - than he would have ever expected; and, it occurred to him that maybe Elincia was right._

_ But, a final thunderclap of doubt resounded in his mind._

_ "And, if they still don't?" he asked, his voice unnaturally calm and controlled._

_ Elincia cupped his cheek with one hand, and Ike shivered at the contact. She favored him with that bright smile that he'd long since been powerless to resist and stood on her toes in an effort to look him straight in the eye._

_ "Then I'll be very disappointed in them," she answered simply. "And, it won't stop us in any event." _

_ Ike's only reply had been a grin, which widened when Elincia leaned in and pecked him on the cheek. Ike, warmth flooding his veins, turned to face the door to the Council Hall. The Lion and Unicorn of the Crimean Royal Crest gracing the door stared back at him sightlessly as he drew in a long breath. Into himself, he drew his doubts, his anxieties and his lingering doubts about his chances for the Council's approval, of his future in Melior and of his ability to be the husband Elincia needed and deserved. It crested in his lungs, storm clouds of doubt roiling in the center of his being sliced by lightning bolts of anger. _

_ Then, he exhaled and let it fountain out again. His doubts trailed away in the air and, calm and determined, he opened the door._

_ The doors creaked in protest, like the jaw of a predator gaping wide to devour its prey, but Ike pressed forward. As he and Elincia crossed the threshold and the doors boomed shut behind them, he knew there was no turning back._

_ Stealing his nerve and setting his shoulders, Ike surveyed the chamber. Easily dominating the room was an enormous round table of gleaming redwood surrounded by a crescent of well padded oak chairs that curved about the circumference to meet three burnished, throne-like chairs. The largest chair, most likely King Ramon's, was ornately decorated with gold while the flanking thrones, probably the Queen and Duke Renning's seats, were slightly smaller and wrought in silver. The three thrones and more than half of the Council Members' chairs were empty, their prior occupants either slain or having gone missing during Ashnard's brief dominion over Crimea, and an air of mourning seemed to permeate the room at the loss. _

_ And yet, beneath that mourning and loss was...something else._

_The air seemed to hum with a hidden energy, waiting to be unleashed. Perhaps it was the sense of relief and subdued astonishment that, for all the carnage and terror Ashnard had sown, Crimea had survived. Maybe it was the impossible mingling of pride and humility summoned by the vigor and determination that so many had shown in the quest to restore the country to health. It might've been the thrill, the allure of finally creating the new world that King Ramon had envisioned and ushering in a new era for all of Tellius._

_ Echoes of the_ /iDemosthenei_._

_Ike glanced at Elincia out of the corner of his eye; their gazes met invisibly, and Ike felt his resolution grow stronger under her loving, golden eye. _

_ Ike turned his attention to the Council Members themselves._

_ Lucia favored him with a well concealed smile of approval and a nearly invisible nod._

_ Bastian seemed deep in thought; though, whether this was over his latest bid for Lucia's affection or because he suspected Ike's intent, was impossible to say._

_ Silok was clearly excited, fidgeting in this chair and rubbing his palms eagerly as if awaiting a sizeable portion of his favorite dessert._

_ Reginald greeted Ike with a friendly smile and an acknowledging nod._

_ Gervain sat alone between two arcs of vacant Council Seats looking as pensive and dour as ever._

_ Caldaur was either finishing an amusing anecdote or enjoying a private joke, for he spent several seconds laughing heartily before noticing, and warmly acknowledging, Ike's presence._

_ La Roche was unreadable as always, his expression a cryptic, unblinking mask of calculation that caused Ike's ire to stir beneath the depths of his being._

_ Caineghis and Tanith stood on opposite sides of the table. The King of Lions moved to clap a hand on Ike's shoulder, his impressive array of fangs curving into the Laguz equivalent of a warm smile. If not for the bow she gave Elincia upon her entrance, Tanith could've been mistaken for a statue._

_ Not seeing any reproach at his presence, Ike discreetly let a sigh of relief escape him as he worked to compose his words._

_ "My countrymen," Ike began slowly, wondering if the simple address was an error then dismissing the thought. "I know that many of you have been wondering why I've stayed in Melior so long after the War ended. I know that I should've explained this sooner, I learned that last night. Well, it's a long story and I hate long stories."_

_Lucia and Caldaur snickered in response to Ike's pronouncement, Reginald rolled his eyes good naturedly and the rest did not react in any fashion Ike's eyes could discern._

_ "I suppose it began in Serenes Forest during the Treaty Signing two years ago," Ike continued. "I spent much of the night...reflecting. On the War, on what I'd done in it, on King Ramon's dream, on the chance the Treaty meant for all of us and...a few other things."_

_ Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the principal member of those 'other things' offer him a curve at the corner of the lip that hinted at an invisible smile._

_ "Before I entered Gallia, I had never even seen a Laguz," Ike admitted, remembering Shinon's amusement at learning of his ignorance. "In fact, I barely even knew the name. But, it didn't take me long to see that the Laguz distrusted the Beorc, and the other way around."_

_ Ike recalled, all to clearly, Lethe's harsh words upon their first meeting and was only too aware of how lucky he was to have survived when he took the blow that the enraged Mordecai had meant for Soren. The tiger Laguz's claws had cloven into Ike's chest - thankfully shallow thanks to Ike's thick leather armor and Mordecai's reflexes - but, the scars were still faintly visible._

_ "I learned bits and pieces of the history between the races during the War," Ike went on. "A lot of mistakes had been made, on both sides, but most of them happened hundreds of years ago. For the longest time, I was puzzled and...I guess you could say disgusted, that there hadn't been any reconciliation; especially when it was clear what our people could accomplish together and how badly reconciliation was needed."_

_ His thoughts migrated with his words to the very signs he'd witnessed of how possible, and how very attainable, reconciliation was._

_ Caineghis' friendship with his father, and later with Ike and Mist._

_ Jill's desire to learn the truth, which led to the improbable bond of respect she shared to this day with Lethe._

_ The repentant Sanaki pleading for forgiveness from Reyson and Leanne and her plea being accepted, however reluctantly._

_ And even Ike's own, admittedly foolhardy, effort to rescue Ranulf from the mob at Port Toha._

_ "That's why what King Ramon and Duke Renning tried to do, died to do, touched me," Ike continued. "I often wondered how and why they decided to make peace with the Laguz. I don't know but, at the Treaty Signing, I couldn't help but feel that I was watching their dream, and something wonderful, come to life. And, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I wanted to be a part of that dream; that I wanted to make that dream real."_

_Here, Ike took a moment to pause. He'd spoken for much longer than he'd intended - an uncommon occurrence, given the value he attached to directness - and excitement and breathlessness alike left him lightheaded with anticipation. But, to his relief and surprise, the Council Members gave no sign of wanting to expel the long winded commoner from the room._

_ In fact, some of them looked impressed._

_ Ike was slightly startled when he felt something gently squeeze his right hand but then, his fingertips brushed against familiar, finely boned fingers and a certain ring._

_ Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Elincia giving him a discreet but warm smile. And, seeing that smile summoned another one, equally secret and warm, to his features as well._

_ Suddenly, he didn't care whether or not the Council found him worthy, because _/i_she_i _found him worthy._

_He was shaken back to the present when one of the Council Members replied, and was shaken anew when the words registered._

_ "It would be an honor to welcome you to the Council, if that is your wish," Caldaur had spoken, gesturing to the nearest vacant chair in a welcoming fashion. "A man of your skill, dedication and knowledge of the Laguz would a priceless asset to this assembly. Besides, it not as if we're lacking for vacancies."_

_ "Heck, another_ /iNoveau Richei _might help keep the rest of us honest," Reginald agreed with a chuckle, then rose to pull back the chair Caldaur had indicated in a clear invitation for Ike to be seated._

_ By some incredible feat of self-control, Ike prevented his face from betraying his astonishment. _

_ Had he heard them right?_

_ Had his ears deceived him?_

_ 'A priceless asset?' _

_ 'Keeping them honest?'_

_ He was still bewildered that none had tried to jeer him, or hurl him, from the room as the Begnion Senators had done - and now they had offered him a seat at their Council?_

_ Granted, that was not what he came here for, but the gesture - and the undertone of trust and respect with which it had been offered - struck Ike nonetheless. And, profoundly._

_ Again, he spied Elincia out of the corner of his eye. Was that a hint of smugness creeping into her small smile?_

_ Maybe, but it was about time he got to the point and said what needed to be said._

_ "Thank you, your words mean a lot to me, but that is not my intent," Ike began again, noting several eyebrows arching at his words. "You see, that night in Serenes during the Treaty Signing, I realized something else. Something which means a great deal to me; even more than being a part of the reconciliation between the Beorc and Laguz."_

_ Boldness seizing him, Ike turned to face Elincia. Not out of the corner of his eye, but fully and directly. This time, he made no attempt to conceal the emotions which crested in his heart. She didn't either. Storm blue eyes met those of gold, and each shone with a warmth and affection that no onlooker could hope to misinterpret._

_ "I realized that I am in love with Elincia," he finished, feeling a tinge of liberation from the simple act of calling her by name, and in public._

_ Ike then turned back to face the Council, his earlier boldness now tempered into his well known, and unbreakable, determination._

_ "I grew up as a Mercenary, and for a long time, that was all I knew," Ike went on. "For the longest time, all I wanted was to become as good a Mercenary as my father and prove that I could lead his Company. But, after learning what I did during the War, I found myself wondering if my destiny might be different than I thought. Not long after the Treaty Signing, I made up my mind. I am going to embrace this new destiny. I did so last night at the Festival, by asking Elincia to marry me." _

_ Ike spent a stretching second scanning the expressions of the Council Members, seeking some hint of their reactions to his, admittedly, startling pronouncement. Strangely, there wasn't much. Lucia gave him a friendly wink - so quickly, he almost missed it - while Silok's eyes widened and his jaw parted in a gaping expression that might've signaled either mere surprise or indignation. The reaction of the others were either confined to the lifting of an eyebrow or were small enough that they escaped Ike's eyes completely. Ike's mouth compressed into a grim, thin line, uncertain and more than a little puzzled that the miniature thunderstorm of protest he'd expected hadn't appeared. Taking care to wipe any hint of this puzzlement from his face, he continued._

_ "I know what I've told you must be a surprise," he continued, all too conscious of the magnitude of the understatement. "You don't have to tell me that I was born a commoner, title or not; I know that already. And, you don't have to tell me that what I've set myself to do in unheard-of; I know that too. But, all of you know who I am, what I've done and what I can do. You admitted this when you offered me a chair at this Council. You know who I am. All I'm asking is that you judge me, and my request, by that rather than my birth."_

_ Ike felt a familiar, finely bones hand gently clasp his shoulder, accompanied by an equally familiar warmth that eased Ike's mind and lightened his heart. And, when Elincia spoke, his whole being swelled with joy._

_ "It's a small enough thing to ask after all he's done for Crimea," she declared, resolution and adoration ringing clearly in her tone._

_ Ike gave her his rakish smile, to which she replied with a smile as radiant as a sunrise, and then turned to face the Council Members once more. But, one Council Member seized his attention with an iron grip._

_ Though Ike had only just noticed, La Roche had been eyeing him intently for some time. And, that interest made Ike suddenly wary, his wariness growing all the more when La Roche's face took on an expression reminiscent of a snake eyeing its prey._

_"I must confess, your courage impresses me," La Roche admitted, though Ike did not believe a word of it. "But, one thing yet confuses me; you told us that you had resolved to embrace this 'new destiny' nearly two years ago. Yet, you asked for our Queen's hand only last night?"_

_ An echo of Ike's earlier doubts sounded in his breastbone. Yet - where it had once been a thunderstorm of anxiety and rage, directed both outward and inward - it was now little more than a breeze that passed across Ike's face without causing so much as a change of expression._

_ Ike met La Roche's stare evenly, and thought he detected a hint of umbrage in the other man's face at having failed to rattle the young Mercenary. Then, Ike continued._

_ "I wanted to make sure that the Greil Mercenaries and my sister were in good hands before I left," he went on, his tone turning flat and grim. "And, there was a lot to do, with the Reconstruction and hunting down Ashnard's remaining forces. I wanted to set as much of it to rights as I could before I moved on. I underestimated how much there was to do and how long it would take. I always thought I'd be able to finish it quickly and then tell Elincia how I felt afterwards. I was wrong."_

_ Even as he spoke the words, memories began to stir. He saw again the anguish on Elincia's face the previous evening. Anguish he had caused, however unwittingly, through his long neglect. But, once again, Ike's indomitable will allowed nothing to sap his strength nor overcome his resolve._

_ Elincia, apparently sharing his sentiments, spoke once more._

_ "Ike and I have discussed this matter privately, and I have forgiven him," she intoned with calm determination._

_ For a long moment, La Roche's unblinking eyes seemed to drift between Ike and Elincia, as if he was probing a rival for weaknesses...which, given his penchant for political maneuvering, probably wasn't far from the truth. Apparently finding nothing he could readily exploit, La Roche's lips twisted slightly in a near-invisible grimace._

_ Then, he decided to change tactics._

_ His ever calculating gaze shifted first to Caineghis and then Tanith, both of whom yet flanked the Council table and neither of whom had spoken. The barest hint of a smirk flashed across La Roche's features as his eyes came to rest upon Caineghis._

_ "Your Majesty," La Roche addressed with, at least to Ike's ears, a blandly polite tone which carried undercurrents of false respect. "Surely you have much to say in response to this...announcement?"_

_"Indeed, I do," Caineghis replied._

_ So saying, the King of Lions strode towards the couple. His gait was slow and smooth, in contrast to his hulking frame, and yet firm and strong as though a mountain were walking. One clawed hand gripped Ike's shoulder while the other found Elincia's. Then, a curious light shone in the King of Lions' eyes which Ike had never seen there before._

_ Ike realized, blankly astonished, that Caineghis was crying._

_ Well, as close to it as the fearsome King of Lions was likely to get._

_ Still, the paternal warmth and delight radiating off of him as he embraced the couple was unmistakable._

_ "It is with a glad heart and much joy that I offer my approval of this union," Caineghis declared. "And, I wish you both every happiness."_

_ Ike's attention was so arrested by this gesture from the Laguz who had been his father's friend, and Ike's, that he almost failed to notice La Roche. The conniving Count looked...displeased at this setback. But, La Roche recovered quickly and turned to Tanith._

_ "Lady Tanith," he entreated, his tone still blandly polite but with a hint of anxiety. "You are here as a representative of the Apostle of Begnion, to oversee this country's restoration. And, for that, we are grateful."_

_ Even Ike, who was hardly savvy in the intricate double speech known as politics, could detect the hint of dishonesty that painted La Roche's every word._

_ "Surely, however, the Apostle you represent would not stand for this...union?" La Roche concluded, a hint of smugness replacing his concealed anxiety._

_ Even under the barrage of astonishment that had paraded in front of her - Ike being offered a seat at the Council, Ike and Elincia declaring their intent to wed and Caineghis being very nearly moved to tears at this news, and all in the span of a few minutes - Tanith's expression had changed very little. The only indication that Tanith had even witnessed what was going on was that her eyes had widened slightly and her eyebrows had been steadily migrating into her bangs. This was hardly surprising, since she was known to be as calm as a stone unless riled up by an inept subordinate._

_ Curiously, Ike sensed neither revulsion nor even shock in Tanith's minute change of expression. If anything, her gaze hinted at...realization._

_ "How curious," Tanith murmured, seemingly talking to herself. "Before I was dispatched by the Empress, she told me something which I did not understand. She told me she was expecting you to make some sort of, as she put it, long overdue announcement. She did not say what manner of announcement, only that I would know it when I saw it. She also instructed me to relay her endorsement. And, her congratulations."_

_ Ike could not help a low chuckle and a shake of his head at this realization. He suspected that Sephiran had a hand in Sanaki's approval; and Ike had still another reason to thank the enigmatic Prime Minister._

_ Once Ike had recovered from this surprise, his peripheral vision found La Roche once more. Ike was hardly a vindictive man, but he found La Roche's expression in reply to this second defeat to be simply priceless. For a delightful fraction of a second, La Roche's jaw hung open and his eyes bulged in unrestrained astonishment. Then, it twisted in an equally uncharacteristic, unblinking glare of brooding intensity which belied a blazing hatred and the promise of retaliation._

_ Ike didn't care; in fact, he barely even noticed._

_ His senses were instead overwhelmed with what was unfolding before him._

_ He had entered the Council Hall minutes ago, though it felt like hours, expecting the worst. He'd half expected to have been jeered out of the room some time ago. He'd been bracing himself for a long and painstaking clash with people cut from the same cloth as the haughty, arrogant Begnion Senators._

_ He'd expected a decidedly unpleasant conference with a room full of people who would never respect him._

_ He'd been nonetheless prepared to clash with them, to bear or deflect their taunts and condescension, even if he doubted it would change their view of him. He would do that and more to be with Elincia._

_ And yet, he didn't have to._

_ He already had their respect. He'd had it, he realized, for some time now and yet he had overlooked it. Or, perhaps, he had seen hints of this surprising truth, but simply had not allowed himself to believe it._

_ A gentle squeeze at his hand shook him back to the present. Once again, his large, calloused hand was clasped by a smaller, more delicate one. Warmth, of both affection and familiarity, flooded into his arm and then channeled upward to spread over the rest of his burly form until he felt as if immersed in a hot spring. That finely boned hand led to a shapely forearm, which his gaze climbed to behold a pair of lambent eyes set in a delicate, flawless face which belonged to his true love._

_ Her red lips curved in a sly smile which betrayed a hint of smugness, but one which belied delight to match that which sang in his very being._

_"I motion for an immediate vote on this matter," Lucia declared, shaking the couple back to wakefulness. "The Item for Consideration is the endorsement of the union between Lord Ike and Queen Elincia. All in favor?"_

_ Lucia's hand rose before she'd even finished her sentence._

_ Bastian's hand followed suit a split-second later._

_ Grinning - so broadly that Ike expected his face to split open at any moment - Caulder assented as well._

_ Reginald, mouthing something to the effect of 'you're doomed' to Ike, also raised his hand in approval._

_ Silok's hand shot up, so violently that the young Marquis was nearly carried out of his chair by his own motion._

_ Gervain, to Ike's surprised, assented as well._

_"All opposed?" Lucia inquired, her tone betraying her confidence that the results were already clear._

_ The six hands which had been raised in approval - approval for a common Mercenary to marry a_ /i_Queen_i _- lowered as a single hand rose in disapproval. Unsurprisingly, that hand belonged to La Roche. If the conniving Count was at all perturbed at being alone in opposition, then he hid it well. Contrary to his veiled indignation at finding neither Caineghis nor Tanith amenable to his line of thinking, he had now assumed his customary expression of calm thoughtfulness as he quietly surveyed everyone in the room to discern what secrets he could learn. And, exploit. Ike might've been worried about what was going through La Roche's mind, especially considering La Roche's reputation as an intelligent and consummate schemer._

_But, at that moment, Ike simply did not care._

_ Realization seeped into his flesh, as warm and uplifting as if sunlight had been poured into his veins. As what had happened dawned on him - that the Council had completely defied his grim expectations and supported his bid for Elincia's hand - his whole face lit up with a broad beaming grin that threatened to take in his ears. His arm sought Elincia's waist while her arms snaked about his broad from and her chin came to rest on his breastbone. Ike's eyes met hers as she smiled up at him and, in those lambent orbs, he saw the fullness of their customary luminescence which he recalled from wonderful moments in times past._

_ When they'd wandered together in Port Toha as she took in the sights of a world she'd only read about in books to the moment he'd asked for her hand, her golden orbs had glowed with wonderment and happiness._

_ Her eyes were now alight with pure, uncomplicated joy and, knowing that he had helped bring that smile to her face, Ike finally felt as if he had accomplished something which merited the near-stifling praise and accolades people insisted on heaping upon him._

_ Ike was not a vain man, by any stretch of the imagination. Quite the opposite in fact. Ike almost habitually considered the lavish praise he received as outweighing his accomplishments, and thus was quick to deflect such acclaims towards others whom he believed deserved it more than he. But, after finally bringing such a smile to Elincia's face - finally making her happy after unwittingly hurting her so deeply, and for so long - made him feel ten feet tall._

_ When Lucia spoke again, Ike heard her but his eyes never strayed from those of his love._

_ "The tally is six ayes and one nay," Lucia declared, with sufficient flare to compensate for the redundancy of the announcement. "The ayes have it!"_

_ Ike was dimly aware of cheering coming from the direction of the Council table, but he only had eyes for his beloved Queen._

_ "Well?" Lucia piped up petulantly. "Kiss her, you dullard!"_

_ Ike needed no further invitation._

_ He swooped in, the minute distance between their faces vanishing in an instant, and their lips met._

_ And, for a precious instant, life was perfect._/i

(Ike, present)

That precious instant, however, ended quite abruptly when the vicious and violent force of nature known as the Royal Seamstress made herself known by upending a pail of scalding water over Ike's head. Ike seethed under her 'care' and decided that the wedding ceremony could not come soon enough.

(End)

Falchion1984: *somewhere near normal, but popping a pierogi between every other word* You would not believe the trouble I had with that confrontation between Ike and the Council. It kept me stuck for the longest time and I eventually just had to roll the dice on it. I do hope it satisfies. Also, I know that we didn't hear why Ike's room (and, presumably Ike himself) smelled like sea water, but that'll change soon.

Mist: *smiles innocently*

Falchion1984: Hint, hint?

Ranulf: I wasn't in the chapter?

Falchion1984: Trust me on this, you'll be i_everywhere_/i in the next few chapters. Also, Ike getting the Council's approval might have seemed too easy but keep in mind that the Council isn't even half of its proper size. Those seats i_will_/i fill up eventually, and their future occupants might not be as cooperative. On a side note, i_Noveau Riche_/i means 'new money,' and is often used to denote people who earned a fortune rather than inheriting it. I plan for this to come into play, and to be of considerable importance, later on. Well, I hope to cover the wedding in the next few chapters. I've also been toying with the idea of writing one of those 100 themes stories and posting a Ike+Elincia post-RD fic I wrote as an experiment a ways back. Feel free to weigh in on that. Anyhow, please review!


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